THE 

G1AMTS 


SlL  KiKG 


'**n***r^*mi*j:- 


.   OF  CALIF.  LIBHABY,  LOS 


The  Giant's  Strength 


BY 

BASIL  KING 

AUTHOR  OF 

THE  INNER  SHRINE,  THE  WILD  OLIVE, 
THE  STREET  CALLED  STRAIGHT,  ETC 


"O,  it  is  excellent 

To  have  a  giant's  strength;  but  it  is  tyrannous 
To  use  it  like  a  giant." 

— Measure  for  Measure. 


NEW    YORK 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


Published  by  Arrangement  with  Harper  &  Brothers. 


Copyright,  1906,  by  HARPBR  &  BROTHERS. 

All  rights  reserved. 
Published  March,  1907. 


TO 
THE    DEAR    AND    BLESSED    MEMORY    OP 

GEORGE  WRIGHT  HODGSON 

"Whatever  way  my  days  decline, 
I  felt  and  feel,  tho'  left  alone, 
His  being  working  in  mine  own. 
The  footsteps  of  his  life  in  mine.'* 
In  Memoriam. 


2130531 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 


CHAPTER    I 

AS  it  was  the  entr'acte  of  the  opera  the  lobby  of 
J\  the  Casino  was  filled  with  a  gay  and  noisy  cos- 
mopolitan crowd.  All  the  more,  therefore,  was  it  a 
proof  of  the  celebrity  to  which  Paul  Trafford  had 
attained  that  his  entry  caused  a  distinct  and  general 
thrill  of  curiosity.  A  man  who  was  reckoned  the  rich- 
est in  the  world  could  not  be  other  than  an  object  of 
supreme  interest  to  people  whose  first  cry  was  money. 
The  fact  that  he  had  arrived  at  Monte  Carlo  the  day 
before  had  been  as  much  a  topic  of  conversation  as  if 
he  had  been  King  Edward  or  the  Czar.  Now  that  he 
appeared  and  was  recognized,  princes,  duchesses,  and 
adventurers  instinctively  fell  back  a  little,  making  way 
for  him  and  his  party  to  pass  on.  Here  and  there  some 
one  claimed  the  privilege  of  his  acquaintance,  and  bow- 
ed before  his  nod  as  before  a  pope's  benediction.  Those 
who  followed  in  his  train  were  besieged  with  greetings. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  George  Trafford  were  actually  cut  off 
from  the  procession  and  made  prisoners  of  war.  The 

I 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Duke  of  Wiltshire  only  maintained  his  position  at  Miss 
Trafford's  side  by  being  rude  to  people,  and  turning 
his  back  on  them. 

As  for  Paula  herself,  she  passed  on,  between  her 
father  and  the  man  she  had  almost  promised  to  marry, 
unmoved  by  the  stir  she  created.  She  was  aware  of  it, 
but  she  was  used  to  it.  Having  been  so  constantly  her 
father's  companion  during  the  last  four  years,  she  had 
come  to  take  public  attention  as  a  matter  of  course. 
At  first  the  interest  she  inspired  had  been  impersonal 
— the  interest  inseparable  from  one  whom  the  Amer- 
ican press  called  "the  greatest  heiress  on  earth."  Her 
fortune  was  compared  with  that  of  the  Queen  of 
Holland,  and  of  the  daughters  of  the  Rothschild  and 
Rockefeller  families,  but  that  was  all.  Now,  however, 
at  twenty-two,  she  was  emerging  from  the  golden  mist 
that  had  surrounded  her,  and  was  assuming  personality. 
The  flowering  of  her  beauty  had  done  something 
towards  this.  People  had  found  it  superfluous  that  a 
girl  with  so  much  money  should  have  a  complexion 
like  rose-petals  floating  in  milk.  They  resented  the 
fact  that  her  figure  had  needless  grace,  and  her  face 
an  expression  of  appeal  which  there  was  no  resisting. 
Rumors  of  marriage  sprang  up  wherever  she  appeared. 
The  girl  knew  these  things  without  taking  actual  ac- 
count of  them,  or  letting  them  form  part  of  her  daily 
consciousness.  At  this  minute  she  could  ignore  the 
fact  that  her  looks  were  being  criticised  and  her  income 
appraised,  in  gazing  about  her,  with  amusement,  at  the 
novelty  of  the  scene. 

2 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"We're  now  in  one  of  those  spots  of  No-man's-land," 
said  the  Duke  of  Wiltshire,  as  they  entered  the  first 
saloon,  "which  modern  civilization  likes  to  set  apart  as 
cities  of  refuge  from  the  rule  of  caste  and  conven- 
tionality." 

Paula  turned  her  soft  eyes  slowly  towards  him.  They 
were  blue  eyes  with  black  lashes — the  Celtic  eyes  in- 
herited from  her  father's  mother — the  eyes  in  which 
faith  is  mingled  with  superstition,  in  which  self-devo- 
tion has  a  dash  of  insincerity,  and  in  which  laughter 
never  wholly  hides  the  mist  of  tears.  Between  the 
brows  there  was  a  tiny,  perpendicular  furrow,  like  that 
of  a  person  endeavoring  to  see  through  the  rights  and 
wrongs  of  things,  and  conscientiously  trying  to  be  sure. 
It  was  this  puzzled,  inquiring  look  that  the  Duke  of 
Wiltshire  specially  loved  in  her.  It  gave  him  an  oppor- 
tunity for  the  kind  of  explanatory  work  in  which  he 
excelled  in  the  House  of  Lords. 

"Haven't  you  noticed,"  he  went  on,  in  answer  to 
Paula's  unspoken  interrogation,  "that  in  all  the  great 
capitals  of  the  world — London,  Paris,  and  New  York, 
for  instance — there  are  two  or  three  expensive  res- 
taurants and  luxurious  hotels,  where  on  crossing  the 
very  threshold  one  steps  outside  all  the  limitations  of 
nationality,  moral  prejudice,  and  class  distinction  ?" 

"That's  very  true,"  Paul  Trafford  said,  in  corrob- 
oration. 

He  liked  to  listen  to  Wiltshire's  reflections  on  sub- 
jects that  he  himself  had  never  thought  about.  "He's 
always  widening  your  mind  in  some  direction  where 

3 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

you  never  looked  before,"  he  remarked,  now  and  then, 
to  Paula.  The  girl  was  glad  to  believe  it.  It  was  one 
more  attraction  of  mind,  where  physical  charms  were 
so  lacking;  it  was  one  more  explanation  of  her  willing- 
ness to  marry  him.  She  liked  him.  "No  one  could 
help  liking  him,"  she  often  told  herself;  and  yet  as  they 
moved  slowly  along  amid  the  crowd,  with  so  many 
eyes  upon  them,  she  regretted  the  fact  that  he  was 
shorter  than  herself,  and  that  he  had  this  air  of  hopeless 
mediocrity.  The  men  of  her  own  family  were  all 
equipped  for  command.  Her  father,  who  had  been  a 
New  England  farmer's  son,  and  himself  a  farmer's  boy, 
overtopped  most  men  by  a  head,  and  was  undeniably 
handsome.  Even  her  cousin  George,  who  was  big  and 
lumbering,  had  something  dominating  about  him. 
It  seemed  strange  to  her,  therefore,  that  this  English 
duke,  the  head  of  the  illustrious  house  of  Holroyd,  the 
descendant  of  a  line  whose  good  looks  had  helped  to 
make  Holbein,  Vandyck,  and  Reynolds  famous,  should 
have  been  sent  into  the  world  by  the  great  capricious 
Mother  with  the  seal  of  the  commonplace  indelibly 
set  upon  him.  She  could  not  stifle  in  herself  the  knowl- 
edge that  she  was  sorry  for  this;  and  yet  as  her  glance 
took  in  once  more  the  details  of  his  dull-blue  eyes,  his 
stubby,  sandy  beard,  and  the  stocky  figure  that  defied 
the  reformatory  arts  of  the  most  expensive  tailors  in 
London,  she  was  conscious,  too,  of  a  throb  of  pity,  of 
almost  tender  pity,  that  he  to  whom  so  much  had  been 
given  should  have  to  contend  with  such  obvious  dis- 
advantages. 

4 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

"You've  only  got  to  look  about  you,"  Wiltshire  went 
on,  with  the  enthusiasm  of  a  man  airing  his  own  ideas, 
"  to  see  that  Monte  Carlo  is  the  great  city  of  refuge  of 
our  time.  To  people  whose  outward  appearance 
warrants  the  green  ticket  of  admission,  the  reign  of 
liberty,  equality,  and  fraternity  has  set  in  as  nearly  as 
possible  on  earth.  Look  there!"  he  continued.  "That's 
the  Grand -Duke  Dmitri  standing  on  tiptoe  to  look 
over  the  shoulder  of  Aarons,  the  money-lender,  one  of 
the  greatest  rascals  unhung.  That  pretty  English 
girl,  asking  Aarons  to  place  her  stake  for  her,  wouldn't 
touch  him  anywhere  else  with  the  end  of  her  parasol. 
In  every  direction  you  can  see  the  same  flinging  to- 
gether of  odd  contrasts — the  same  suspension  of  the 
rules  that  govern  organized  society  elsewhere." 

Paula  listened  and  smiled,  but  said  nothing  in  re- 
sponse, gazing  about  her  to  verify  his  observations  for 
herself. 

Against  a  background  of  tawdry  splendor  the  great 
ladies  of  all  worlds  combined  to  produce  an  effect  of 
elegance.  There  was  a  place  for  Aspasia  and  Madame 
de  Stael  alike.  So,  too,  with  the  men;  great  lords,  great 
bankers,  and  great  adventurers  met  and  mingled  with 
the  unprejudiced  freedom  of  souls  in  the  future  state. 
Among  the  seated  players  the  card-sharper  elbowed 
the  countess,  and  the  fashionably  dressed  young  man 
of  the  world  jostled  the  faded  grandmother  in  rusty 
crape.  It  was  clear  to  Paula  that  in  the  Temple  of 
Chance  there  was  no  respect  of  persons,  and  that  the 
worshippers  loved  to  have  it  so.  In  this  heated  at- 

5 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

mosphere  and  under  these  glaring  lights,  it  was  as  if  a 
complex  civilization  suddenly  resolved  itself  into  its 
constituent  elements,  and  men  and  women  went  back 
to  the  primitive,  predatory  instincts  that  time  and 
experience  had  taught  them  to  conceal. 


CHAPTER   II 

ON  the  outer  ring  of  spectators  around  the  table 
in  the  centre  of  the  room,  they  paused  to  look  on. 

"  Faites  vos  jeux,  messieurs,"  the  croupier  was  saying, 
in  a  voice  nasally  mechanical. 

Paula's  eyes  were  instantly  attracted  to  the  game. 
The  sight  of  large  sums  of  money  to  be  lost  and  won 
appealed,  by  some  hereditary  instinct,  to  her  imagina- 
tion. She  looked  at  the  players  facing  her,  and  saw 
them  enriched  or  impoverished  with  dramatic  sudden- 
ness. She  was  sure  the  girl  in  a  bright-red  hat,  with  a 
wide  -  meshed  blue  veil  making  unnatural  tints  on 
powder  and  rouge,  would  end  her  days  in  want.  The 
gray-bearded  old  man,  carefully  placing  a  five-franc 
piece  en  carre,  would  have  his  homeward  fare  paid  by 
the  authorities.  The  purse-lipped  woman,  in  shabby 
widow's  weeds,  working  an  elaborate  system  all  over 
the  tableau,  would  win  a  lot  of  money.  The  good- 
looking  young  man,  smilingly  throwing  down  the 
maximum  stake  en  plein,  would  be  ruined  and  would 
shoot  himself. 

"Rten  ne  va  plus"  the  croupier  cried  again,  and  the 
players  drew  back  their  hands  to  await  the  result  of 
Fate. 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

"Your  father  has  been  called  away  to  be  presented 
to  the  Grand-Duke  Dmitri,"  Wiltshire  whispered  to 
Paula,  but  she  only  nodded  to  signify  that  she  had 
heard. 

When  the  croupier  turned  the  wheel  and  threw  the 
ball  she  felt  her  heart-strings  tighten.  In  the  whirling 
thing  before  her  the  blindest  and  most  obscure  forces 
of  the  universe  seemed  visibly  at  work.  Destiny  was 
staked  on  a  chance  that  kept  beyond  all  foresight  and 
eluded  all  calculation.  It  was  strange,  daring,  and 
exciting.  She  wondered  how  the  girl  in  the  red  hat 
could  gaze  indifferently  about  her  while  the  wheel  spun 
round.  She  wondered  how  the  young  man  could  turn 
with  a  jesting  remark  to  the  companion  standing  be- 
hind him.  She  wondered  still  more  at  the  effect  upon 
them  all  when  the  rotations  of  the  wheel  began  to 
slacken  speed,  when  the  ball  clicked  and  tapped  and 
staggered,  whirling  round  and  round  in  a  slow,  wild, 
drunken  way,  till  it  fell,  at  last,  as  if  exhausted,  into  the 
decisive  number.  The  widow  saw  her  system  swept 
away,  and  without  a  shadow  of  expression  on  her  stony 
face  began  to  work  out  a  new  one.  The  girl  in  the  red 
hat  put  down  another  louis  on  the  exact  spot  whence 
the  last  had  disappeared.  The  old  man  replaced  his 
five-franc  piece  by  one  of  ten.  The  young  man  who 
had  played  en  plein  received  the  value  of  his  stake 
thirty-five  times  over. 

"Faites  vos  jeux,  messieurs,"  the  croupier  called 
again.  He  was  a  stout  man  of  fifty,  swarthy  and 
commonplace,  but  Paula  could  not  help  investing 

R 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

him  with  some  of  the  inexorable  power  of  the 
Parcae. 

"You  seem  interested,"  the  Duke  whispered,  be- 
hind her. 

"It's  tremendous,"  she  returned,  over  her  shoulder. 
"It's  awful.  It's  as  if  one  had  got  to  the  very  springs 
of  all  happenings,  as  if  one  were  in  touch  with  the 
power  that  has  made  the  world  and  flung  us,  hap- 
hazard, on  to  it." 

"Wiltshire,"  said  her  father,  slipping  into  the  crowd, 
beside  them,  "the  Grand -Duke  wants  to  meet  you. 
Paula,  dear,  you  can  wait  for  us  here  a  minute.  We 
sha'n't  be  long." 

"Very  well,  papa,  dear.     I  shall  be  all  right." 

She  was  not  sorry  to  have  them  go,  for  it  enabled  her 
to  give  herself  up  to  the  spectacle  of  the  game.  The 
wheel  was  twirled  again  and  again,  always  with  varia- 
tions on  the  same  result.  It  gave  her  a  thrill  to  see  the 
croupier  rake  the  gold  and  silver  in,  with  a  sort  of  lavish 
indifference  to  its  value.  There  was  something  superb, 
too,  in  the  careless  ease  with  which  he  pushed  about  to 
the  successful  players  the  various  multiplications  of 
their  stakes.  As  each  winner  picked  up  his  gains  she 
regretted  that  she  had  not  put  down  a  louis  just  where 
he  had  put  his.  She  wondered  what  would  happen  if 
she  did.  She  wondered  whether  the  obscure,  blind 
power  that  was  throwing  destinies  about  would  have 
anything  in  store  for  her. 

"  If  I  knew  how,  I'd  do  it,"  she  said  to  herself,  looking 
up  and  down  the  table  to  see  exactly  what  the  others  did. 

9 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Just  then  a  man  across  the  table  threw  down  a  ten- 
franc  piece  on  pair.  She  had  seen  him  do  it  several 
times  in  succession,  and  on  each  occasion  he  had  lost. 
It  was  an  easy  conclusion  that  if  pair  lost  impair  would 
win.  It  was  the  simplest  form  of  the  game,  and  before 
she  realized  what  she  was  about  her  own  ten  francs 
were  down.  The  wheel  spun  and  slackened  speed; 
the  ball  clicked  and  staggered  and  stopped.  She  held 
her  breath,  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  her  stake. 

"If  he  rakes  it  in,"  she  thought,  "I  shall  know  I've 
lost." 

But  no!  From  the  ends  of  the  table  the  sure,  re- 
lentless hand  swept  up  the  gold  and  silver  into  one 
central  pile.  Here  and  there  a  few  isolated  stakes  were 
left,  her  own  among  the  number.  A  minute  later  she 
found  two  gold  coins  where  she  had  put  down  one. 

She  picked  them  up  timidly,  and  looked  across  at 
the  young  man.  Pair  had  lost  again,  and  she  felt  sorry 
for  him.  He  was  not  in  evening  dress,  and  she  guessed, 
from  slight  indications,  that  he  was  poor.  Her  first 
thought  was  that  it  was  a  pity  for  him  to  waste  his 
money;  her  second,  that  the  stake  she  had  won  was 
practically  that  which  he  had  lost.  At  the  idea  the 
tiny  furrow  deepened  for  an  instant  between  her  brows, 
and  the  gold  piece  clinched  in  her  hand  seemed  to  burn 
through  her  glove.  She  had  a  confused,  mistaken 
notion  that  she  had  taken  the  money  from  him,  that  if 
she  had  not  played  he  might  have  won. 

"I  oughtn't  to  have  done  it,"  she  said  to  herself, 
half  turning  to  go  away.  But  the  young  man  threw 

IO 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

down  another  ten-franc  piece  on  pair.  It  was  an  op- 
portunity, she  thought,  for  him  to  recover  the  money 
she  had  taken  from  him.  It  was  not  likely  that  she 
would  win  again,  and  her  loss  must  of  necessity  be  his 
gain.  Once  more  she  put  her  stake  down  on  impair, 
and,  with  eyes  fixed  on  it,  awaited  the  result. 

Again  the  croupier  raked  the  gold  and  silver  in,  and 
the  young  man's  stake  went  with  the  rest.  This  time 
the  very  coin  he  had  forfeited  was  pushed  across  the 
table  to  her.  She  picked  it  up  and  slipped  it  into  her 
glove,  looking  over  at  him  to  see  what  he  would  do. 
If  he  stopped  she  would  stop;  if  he  went  on  she  would 
give  him  the  chance  to  win  his  money  back.  She  was 
sure  it  was  his  money,  and  she  felt  some  humiliation  in 
going  home  with  twenty  francs  that  belonged  to  a 
passing  stranger.  Unconsciously  to  herself  her  in- 
terest was  the  more  sincere  because  of  the  fact  that  he 
was  tall  and  good-looking.  "Certainly  a  gentleman," 
•the  commented,  "and  with  such  a  striking  face." 

For  an  instant  he  seemed  to  hesitate;  then  his  bit  of 
gold  fell  on  pair.  A  second  later  Paula's  fell  on  im- 
pair. The  result  was  the  same  as  before;  it  was  so  the 
next  time  and  the  next.  On  the  sixth  spin  pair  won 
and  impair  lost,  but  with  the  seventh  Impair  s  run  of 
luck  began  again.  Paula  felt  herself  growing  des- 
perate. The  palm  of  her  left  -  hand  glove  seemed 
bursting  with  gold,  but  in  honor  towards  the  poor 
young  man  she  could  not  stop  till  he  did.  She  did  not 
reason  that  he  could  win  back  his  money  from  the 
bank;  she  thought  it  must  be  from  her.  Of  one  thing 

Ii 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

she  was  glad:  he  had  not  noticed  her  at  all  or  glanced 
in  her  direction.  She  could,  therefore,  look  at  him, 
with  her  money  in  her  hand,  ready  to  throw  her  stake 
when  he  threw  his. 

The  widow  was  elaborating  a  new  arrangement  of 
her  system,  taking  coin  after  coin  from  a  small  black 
bag.  The  girl  in  the  blue  veil  was  playing  with  two 
louis  instead  of  one,  gesticulating  her  orders  to  the 
croupier  as  to  where  they  should  be  placed.  The  lad 
who  had  put  his  stake  en  plein  was  now  playing  it  a 
cheval. 

" Rien  ne  va  plus  !" 

Paula  started  and  looked  at  the  young  man  across 
the  table.  He  had  put  nothing  down.  He  had  evi- 
dently lost  all  he  could  afford.  What  she  had  won 
she  should  be  obliged  to  keep.  The  obscure  pow- 
ers of  chance  had  been  true  to  their  reputation, 
and  had  given  the  luck  to  those  who  had  no  need 
of  it. 

Her  hand,  with  the  glove  full  of  gold,  fell  heavily  at 
her  side.  Perhaps  the  unfortunate  man  had  lost  every- 
thing he  possessed  and  would  be  driven  to  take  his  life, 
as  she  understood  ruined  gamblers  generally  were.  She 
had  a  wild  thought  of  asking  her  father  to  go  and  beg 
him  to  take  his  money  back,  when  the  victim's  eyes  wan- 
dered, apparently  by  accident,  in  her  direction.  For  a 
fraction  of  a  second  their  glances  met,  but  Paula  felt 
herself  coloring  and  turned  away. 

"Why— what!" 

The  broken  exclamation  came  from  the  Duke  of 
12 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Wiltshire,  as  he  pushed  his  way  through  the  crowd 
to  take  his  place  again  at  her  side. 

"Have  you  been  crying? — or  playing? — or  what?" 
he  demanded,  when  he  was  near  enough  to  speak. 
For  the  first  time  in  their  acquaintance  he  assumed  a 
tone  of  authority. 

"I  haven't  been  crying,"  she  said,  hurriedly.  "I've 
been  playing,  and  I've  won  a  lot  of  money.  I  don't 
quite  know  what  to  do  with  it." 

"So  ho!"  he  laughed.  "That's  what  you  do  when 
your  father's  back  is  turned!" 

"I  sha'n't  do  it  again,"  she  said,  in  some  confusion, 
as  she  moved  out  of  the  ring  immediately  around  the 
table.  "You  see  it  was  this  way.  I  played  against  that 
tall  young  man  over  there.  Don't  look  now  because 
he'll  notice  it.  That  is,  whatever  he  did  on  one  side 
of  the  table  I  did  on  the  other,  and  he  always  lost  and 
I  always  won.  I'm  so  sorry.  He  didn't  look  as  if 
he  could  afford  to  lose — and  he  didn't  keep  on." 

"What  young  man  do  you  mean  ?     I  don't  see  him." 

"He's  tall,  and  well  set-up,  with  a  pointed  brown 
beard  and  rather  gleaming  eyes.  No;  he's  gone,"  she 
added,  stealing  a  glance  to  where  he  had  been  standing. 
"Ah,  there  he  is  now,  coming  round  the  table.  He's 
coming  this  way.  Don't  look;  he'll  know  I've  been 
speaking  of  him.  Come  away.  There's  papa.  Let 
us  go  to  him." 

But  it  was  too  late.  The  unknown  young  man  and 
the  Duke  were  already  shaking  hands,  with  the  cord- 
iality of  long-standing  friendship.  Paula  tried  to  slip 

'3 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

out  of  her  embarrassment  by  gliding  round  them  and 
taking  her  place  beside  her  father.  He  was  talking  to  a 
knot  of  people  she  did  not  know,  but  she  was  near 
enough  to  him  to  be  under  his  protection,  while  not 
so  far  from  the  Duke  as  to  escape  hearing  some  of  the 
remarks  between  him  and  the  stranger. 

Through  the  hum  of  movement  and  conversation 
about  her  she  caught  a  sympathetic  barytone  quality 
of  voice.  From  the  English  precision  of  his  enunciation 
and  the  American  plaintiveness  of  his  inflections,  she 
guessed  he  was  one  of  those  fellow-countrymen  of  her 
own  who  have  lived  or  studied  abroad.  The  Duke 
catechised  him  freely,  and  he  replied  with  the  sort  of 
detail  one  gives  only  to  one's  friends. 

He  had  been  working  in  Rome,  and  would  have 
remained  till  after  Easter,  only  that  he  had  a  couple  of 
commissions  for  portraits  in  Paris.  Oh  yes;  commis- 
sions did  come  in,  but  very  slowly.  Perhaps  it  would 
be  different  some  day.  Yes,  his  mother  was  quite  ac- 
customed to  her  blindness  now,  but  so  feeble  that  they 
might  lose  her  at  any  minute.  Marah  was  well,  and, 
as  usual,  working  hard.  He  was  staying  only  a  day 
or  two  at  Monte  Carlo,  just  to  break  the  journey  from 
Rome.  He  hoped  to  have  something  in  the  next  Salon, 
though  he  had  nothing  ready  yet.  Perhaps  if  Lady 
Alice  were  passing  through  Paris,  she  would  look  in, 
and  give  him  the  benefit  of  her  advice. 

Then  came  the  question  Paula  was  afraid  of.  Would 
the  Duke  tell  him  who  was  the  tall  young  lady,  in  a  blue 
dress  and  black  hat,  who  had  spoken  to  him  on  turning 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

away  from  the  table  ?  Of  the  reply  she  caught  only  the 
end  of  the  sentence — "and  you  must  know  her." 

She  felt  herself  flushing  with  embarrassment,  but 
as  the  Duke  approached  she  knew  the  only  dignified 
thing  to  do  was  to  turn  and  greet  him  pleasantly. 

"Miss  Traffbrd,"  he  said,  with  the  awkward  air  he 
always  had  at  such  moments,  "I  want  you  to  know  a 
very  old  friend  of  ours,  Mr.  Roger  Winship." 

"Mr.  Winship's  face,"  she  laughed,  "is  perfectly 
familiar  to  me.  I've  been  watching  him  from  the  other 
side  of  the  roulette-table  for  nearly  half  an  hour." 

"And  you  saw  the  ill-will  of  the  gods  against  me,"  he 
returned,  easily.  "But  I  had  the  gratification  of  know- 
ing that  I  couldn't  lose  unless  you  won.  That  was 
something." 

"Haven't  we  met  before  ?"  she  asked,  with  a  hurried 
change  of  topic. 

"No;  never." 

The  quick  decisiveness  of  tone  as  well  as  the  curious 
gleam  of  his  eyes,  in  speaking  the  brief  words,  were 
details  she  remembered  afterwards. 

"And  yet,"  she  persisted,  "your  name  is  very  well 
known  to  me.  I've  heard  it  often." 

"That  isn't  impossible,"  he  admitted,  with  a  forced 
smile,  "though  you  must  have  been  very  young." 

"  I  know  I've  heard  of  a  Roger  Winship,"  she  con- 
tinued, as  if  searching  in  her  memory.  "It  must  have 
been  my  father — " 

"Probably,"  he  interrupted;  "but  it  was  so  long 
ago-" 

'5 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"That  it  was  your  father's  name  and  not  yours 
that  I've  heard  mentioned.  Were  you  going  to  say 
that  ?" 

"It  was  a  long  time  ago,"  he  repeated,  the  forced 

smile   gone.     "I    don't    suppose   that    either   you   or 
j » 

He  hesitated,  and  Paula  saw  that  it  would  be  best  to 
let  the  subject  drop.  The  Duke  broke  in  with  a  re- 
mark or  two,  and  after  a  few  further  words  Winship 
bade  them  good-evening  and  passed  on. 

"What  am  I  to  do  with  all  this  money  ?"  Paula  asked, 
when  she  and  Wiltshire  were  alone  again. 

"You  might  give  it  in  charity,"  he  suggested. 

"No;  I  wouldn't  do  that.  I  couldn't  give  in  charity 
money  to  which  I  felt  some  one  else  had  a  prior  claim. 
And,"  she  pursued,  with  some  hesitation,  "I  suppose 
I  was  right  in  fancying  that  he  is  poor  ?" 

"Oh  yes;  he's  poor  enough.  He's  a  portrait-painter, 
and  still  has  his  way  to  make.  Alice  got  to  know  him 
and  his  sister  when  she  took  it  into  her  head  to  study 
art  in  Paris.  She  brings  them  over  every  now  and  then 
to  stay  with  us  at  Edenbridge,  or,  at  least  she  did  till 
the  poor  old  lady  grew  too  blind.  I  like  this  young 
fellow.  He's  full  of  ideas,  and  we've  had  some  jolly 
talks  together." 

"I've  heard  your  sister  spoken  of  as  a  great  authority 
on  art.  Does  she  think  this  Mr.  Winship —  ?" 

"She  says  she  doesn't  think — she  knows.  In  ten 
years'  time,  she  believes,  he  will  have  such  a  place  as 
Sargent  holds  to-day." 

16 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Then,  what  shall  I  do  with  the  money?"  Paula 

said  again. 

"What  can  you  do  but  give  it  away  or  spend  it  ?" 
"I    can   keep   it,"   she   returned,   thoughtfully.     "I 

may  find  a  way  of  getting  him  to  take  it  back." 


CHAPTER  III 

"  \\  T^HAT  connection  have  I  with  the  name  of 
VV  Roger  Winship  ?" 

"Oh,  that  dreadful  man!"  Mrs.  Trafford  cried,  with 
a  little  gasp.  "I  haven't  heard  of  him  for  years." 

"  Do  you  mean  old  Roger  Winship  ?"  George  Traf- 
ford asked,  yawning,  as  he  slipped  down  lazily  in  his 
arm-chair  and  stretched  his  legs  before  the  fire. 

"I  mean  any  Roger  Winship,"  Paula  replied.  "I've 
heard  the  name  to-night,  and  I  seem  to  have  known  it 
before." 

"How  on  earth  did  it  happen?"  came  from  Mrs. 
Trafford. 

"There  was  a  young  man  at  the  Casino,  rather  an 
interesting-looking  man,  a  friend  of  the  Duke's.  The 
Duke  spoke  to  him  and  then  introduced  him  to  me. 
I'd  noticed  him  before  that." 

"I'm  surprised  at  the  Duke.  It's  very  queer  the 
sort  of  people  who  seem  to  know  one  another  nowadays." 

Mrs.  Trafford  spoke  with  as  much  severity  as  a 
beaming  content  would  permit.  Handsome,  dimpling, 
and  energetic,  she  was  spending  her  middle-age  in  the 
serene  satisfaction  of  seeing  all  her  dreams  fulfilled. 

The  daughter  of  a  New  England  coal  merchant,  her 
18 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

modest  fortune  had  been  the  foundation  on  which  the 
colossal  Coal  Trust  had  been  built  up.  It  was  to  her 
credit  to  have  married  a  poor  man,  certain  that  a  great 
industrial  empire  awaited  him.  She  had  married  for 
love,  against  the  wishes  of  her  family,  but  her  love  had 
been  based  on  admiration.  Her  husband  and  she  had 
passed  through  good  years  and  evil  years,  had  lived 
sparingly,  had  watched  and  planned  and  combined, 
and  made  their  business  march  with  the  march  of  the 
country.  She  had  seen  him  rise,  with  the  swiftness  and 
sureness  of  a  Bonaparte,  to  the  highest  financial  posi- 
tion, first  in  Vermont,  then  in  New  England,  then  in 
America,  then  in  the  world.  Before  he  was  sixty  or 
she  was  fifty,  TrafFord  was  a  name  to  go  with  Roths- 
child. It  was  a  name  that  meant  not  only  the  power 
of  money,  but  the  power  of  power — the  success  of  those 
who  threw  in  their  destinies  with  it,  and  the  ruin  of 
those  who  opposed  it. 

During  the  years  in  which  the  great  trust  was  being 
organized  and  maintained,  the  Traffords  had  lived  in 
an  atmosphere  of  battle.  There  were  suits  in  the  law 
courts,  appeals  to  supreme  courts,  State  legislatures  to 
be  managed,  Congress  to  be  appeased,  foreign  trade- 
marts  to  be  invaded,  and  small  competitors  to  be  crush- 
ed out  at  home.  It  had  been  exciting,  and  often 
dramatic;  but  as  middle-age  drew  on  and  most  of  the 
ends  had  been  gained,  it  was  pleasant  to  settle  down 
and  enjoy  the  hardly  won  laurels  in  peace.  George 
TrafFord,  whose  late  father,  Andrew  TrafFord,  had 
shared  the  family  elevation,  was  equal  now  to  taking 

19 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

his  uncle's  place  in  everything  but  the  supreme  com- 
mand. In  the  exercise  of  this  office  Paul  Trafford 
himself  was  never  idle,  hurrying  now  to  one  great  capi- 
tal, now  to  another,  with  but  brief  intervals  to  spend 
with  his  wife  and  daughter  at  home. 

Home  now  meant  Paris.  The  dust  of  conflict  being 
still  thick  in  New  York,  it  was  natural  that  Mrs. 
Trafford,  at  least,  should  prefer  a  place  of  abode  where 
she  could  breathe  more  freely.  It  was  not  less  natural 
that  the  enticements  of  fashion  and  fine  weather,  as  well 
as  the  needs  of  Mrs.  Trafford 's  health,  should  draw 
them  in  winter  to  the  Riviera.  The  coming  of  the 
George  Traffords  from  America,  as  well  as  the  possi- 
bility of  Paula's  engagement  to  the  Duke  of  Wiltshire — 
a  possibility  which  was  only  awaiting  her  final  word  to 
become  a  certainty  —  offered  reasons  for  assembling 
something  like  a  family  party. 

At  the  present  minute  they  were  spending  the  last 
desultory  half-hour  of  the  evening  in  Mrs.  Trafford's 
sitting-room,  before  parting  for  the  night.  Mr.  Traf- 
ford had  already  gone  to  his  apartment,  and  Mrs. 
George,  beating  back  a  yawn  with  the  gloves  she  had 
just  pulled  off,  was  preparing  to  take  her  husband  off 
to  theirs.  Paula,  dressed  as  she  came  from  the  Casino, 
sat  by  a  window  from  which  she  had  pulled  the  curtain 
back.  Under  the  starlight,  the  sea  gleamed  duskily, 
reflecting  here  and  there  the  lamps  of  the  yachts  an- 
chored in  the  tiny  bay.  Lights,  too,  ran  in  a  long,  slant- 
ing line  down  the  sea-wall  to  the  Condamine,  while 
more  lights  still  punctured  the  dark  mass  of  the  town 

20 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

of  Monaco,  looming,  high  and  ancient,  against  the 
sky. 

"The  Duke  couldn't  help  introducing  him  to  me," 
Paula  explained,  in  answer  to  her  mother's  objections. 
"I  was  standing  near,  and  he  asked  who  I  was.  Be- 
sides, we'd  noticed  each  other  before  that." 

"Noticed  each  other?"  Mrs.  George  queried,  with 
just  the  glimmer  of  a  smile. 

"In  the  Casino  at  Monte  Carlo,''  George  Trafford 
began,  "strange  ladies  don't  notice  strange  gentlemen 
unless — " 

"It  was  this  way,"  Paula  hastened  to  say.  "I'd 
won  a  lot  of  money  from  him — " 

"You'd — what  ?"  Mrs.  Trafford  gasped.  'You  don't 
mean  to  say  you  played  in  that  dreadful  place  ?" 

"I  didn't  play  exactly.  I  just  put  down  ten  francs 
on  a  sort  of  square  to  see  what  would  happen." 

"Well?" 

"Well,  he  had  ten  francs  on  the  corresponding 
square  on  the  opposite  side,  and  he  lost  and  I 
won." 

"That  wasn't  winning  from  him,"  George  Trafford 
corrected;  "it  was  winning  from  the  bank." 

"It  seemed  like  winning  from  him,"  Paula  insisted. 

"Was  that  all  ?"  the  mother  inquired,  anxiously. 

"No.  We  went  on — six  or  seven  times.  He  lost 
every  time  but  one.  I've  brought  home  all  this!" 

She  pulled  off  her  glove  and  let  the  gold  pieces  slip 
from  her  palm  on  to  the  nearest  table.  They  lay  about 
separately,  like  stars.  Mrs.  Trafford  and  Mrs.  George 

21 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

both  leaned  forward  to  see;  George  Trafford  turned  his 
head  to  look  without  changing  his  position. 

"One — two — three,"  Mrs.  Trafford  counted — "fifty 
francs  in  all.  Well,  it  isn't  very  much." 

"It  was  a  good  deal  to  him,  I  fancy,"  Paula  remarked. 
"The  Duke  admitted  that  he  wasn't  well  off.  Who  is 
he,  George  ?" 

"  If  he  is  old  Roger  Winship's  son — "  George  Traf- 
ford began,  lazily. 

"He  is,"  Paula  interrupted;  "or  at  least  he  hinted  as 
much.  He  seemed  to  speak  as  if  his  family  had  fiad 
some  connection  with  us." 

"Did  he  say  that?"  Mrs.  Trafford  asked,  with  a 
gleam  of  her  old  readiness  for  conflict. 

"Not  exactly,"  Paula  explained.  "He  only  wouldn't 
talk  of  it  when  I  said  I  seemed  to  know  his  name.  Who 
is  he?" 

"Old  Roger  Winship,"  George  Trafford  went  on, 
in  his  comfortable,  lazy  tone,  "was  one  of  the  men  who, 
twenty  years  ago,  had  the  folly,  the  hardihood,  and  the 
ill-luck  to  oppose  your  father." 

"And  what  then?" 

"Then,"  Trafford  laughed — "then  he  was  ruined." 

"Oh!" 

"That  is,"  Mrs.  Trafford  added,  in  explanation,  "he 
would  have  been  ruined  if  he  had  lived.  As  it  was — " 

"His  son  was  ruined,"  Paula  finished,  seeing  her 
mother  hesitate. 

"No,  his  widow,  poor  thing,"  Mrs.  Trafford  correct- 
ed, pityingly. 

22 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Was  she  ruined  by — by  us?"  Paula  continued,  a 
little  tremulously. 

"  No,  by  herself,"  George  Trafford  replied,  promptly. 

He  pulled  himself  up  in  his  chair  and  spoke  with 
emphasis.  You  could  see  that  it  was  one  of  the  sub- 
jects that  kindled  him  into  interest  by  the  way  in 
which  his  eyes  awoke  from  their  blue  benignity  to  dart 
out  a  ray  like  steel.  It  was  then  that  you  realized  in 
him  the  presence  of  the  new  type — the  essentially  mod- 
ern and  chiefly  American  type — the  son  of  the  hugely 
wealthy,  self-made  man;  the  son  to  whom  has  passed 
the  blood  of  a  peasant  with  the  power  of  a  prince,  and 
a  command  of  means  far  in  excess  of  anything  he  knows 
how  to  use.  As  Trafford  dragged  his  heavy  figure  into 
an  upright  posture  in  his  chair,  his  large  jaw  set,  his 
head  thrown  back,  and  his  keen  eyes  flashing,  there  was 
the  implication  that  he  could  do  what  Paul  Trafford 
himself  had  done  if  there  were  need  to  begin  the  work 
again.  But  his  was  another  duty — the  duty  of  the 
second  generation  to  keep  what  had  been  won.  It  was 
a  task  consistent  with  a  large-handed,  easy  mode  of 
life,  with  leisure  for  a  certain  sort  of  simple  cultivation, 
with  praiseworthy,  philanthropic  undertaking,  and 
with  interest  in  everything  that  made  for  the  general 
public  good.  The  least  competent  judge  of  character 
could  read  in  George  Trafford's  rather  ponderous, 
clean-shaven  face  the  presence  of  the  loyal,  honest  citi- 
zen, who  would  have  straightforward,  sensible  views 
on  every  subject,  from  ward  politics  to  the  nude  in  art. 
It  was  not  an  aristocratic  face;  its  features,  excellent  in 

23 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

themselves,  were  so  placed  together  as  to  be  without 
distinction;  a  mustache  would  have  softened  the  hard 
lines  of  the  mouth  and  a  beard  would  have  veiled  the 
too  aggressive  chin;  but  in  the  general  expression  there 
was  at  least  frankness,  open-mindedness,  and  a  sense 
of  power  coupled  with  a  look  of  kindness.  Undoubt- 
edly that  look  of  kindness  came  from  his  eyes.  They 
were  blue  eyes  with  black  lashes,  like  his  cousin  Paula's, 
only  smaller  and  more  deeply  set.  Where  hers  ranged 
about  with  a  sort  of  searching,  puzzled  wonder,  his 
twinkled  good-naturedly,  until  some  sudden  topic  of 
politics,  business,  or  American  patriotism  made  them 
blaze.  A  good  man,  was  the  universal  opinion  in  New 
York  regarding  George  Trafford;  a  safe  man,  a  man  to 
be  found  in  the  forefront  of  any  movement  to  help  on 
the  common  weal;  but  a  man  who,  in  all  matters  of 
money,  was  of  Paul  Traffbrd's  own  stock  and  blood. 

"She  ruined  herself,"  he  repeated,  with  greater 
energy.  "  She,  too,  was  possessed  of  the  insane  con- 
viction that  she  could  fight  your  father  and  beat  him. 
She  wasn't  the  only  woman  who  ever  tried  it,  but  no 
other  kept  at  it  so  doggedly  and  desperately  that  there 
was  no  choice  at  last  but  to  club  her  down." 

"Of  course,"  Mrs.  Trafford  interposed,  "she  worked 
for  sympathy  on  the  fact  that  she  was  a  woman;  and  she 
got  it — there's  no  denying  that.  It  was  one  of  the  in- 
justices that  was  done  your  father  and  which  he  is  al- 
ways so  ready  to  forgive." 

"I  didn't  know,"  Paula  said,  with  a  more  decided 
tremor  in  the  voice,  "that  papa  fought  with — women." 

24 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

"There  are  no  women  in  business,"  Mrs.  George 
Trafford  observed,  in  her  clear,  cold  way;  "there  are 
only  competitors." 

"Your  father  never  fights  with  any  one,"  George 
Trafford  cried,  forcibly.  "It  is  others  who  fight  with 
him.  They  won't  let  him  alone.  His  success  is  what 
they  can't  pardon,  and  the  less  so  when  they  compare 
it  with  their  own  failure.  There's  never  been  a  man 
who  has  tried  harder  than  your  father  to  do  good  to 
others,  and  there's  never  been  one  who  has  had  more 
harm  done  to  him." 

In  his  tone  there  was  a  mingling  of  pride  and  in- 
dignation. Mrs.  Trafford  raised  her  lace  handkerchief 
to  her  eyes.  Even  Mrs.  George  Trafford,  who  had 
only  a  connection  by  affinity  with  the  great  financier, 
threw  up  her  head  with  admiration  when  the  trumpet 
was  blown  in  his  praise. 

Paula  herself  felt  a  strange  oppression  about  the 
heart.  Like  the  rest  of  the  Traffords  she  had  set  up  the 
man  who  had  made  them  what  they  were  as  a  kind  of 
demigod.  She  had  done  more  than  the  rest  of  them; 
for,  into  the  worship  they  all  accorded  him,  she  had  in- 
fused a  self-devotion  of  which  she  alone  was  capable. 
As  the  youngest  of  the  family  it  was  she  who  had  known 
him  least  as  a  man  of  business  and  most  as  a  man  of 
the  world.  In  all  her  recollection  of  him  he  had  never 
been  anything  but  the  great  personage  whose  goings 
and  comings  were  as  important  as  those  of  kings. 
During  his  later  years,  when  the  immensity  of  his 
affairs  obliged  him  to  travel  much,  she  was  his  frequent 

3  25 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

companion.  She  helped  him  in  collecting  rare  old 
books  and  works  of  art,  and  filled  some  of  the  gaps  in 
his  early  education;  but  she  never  saw  him  otherwise 
than  as  the  financial  potentate,  who  had  taught  statesmen 
to  look  to  him  for  advice  and  bishops  for  benefactions, 
and  who  could  buy  anything  that  was  good  enough. 

To  be  the  daughter  of  such  a  man  had  given  her  a 
kind  of  royalty — the  royalty  of  money.  Wherever  they 
went  they  were  treated  with  a  spontaneous  awe, 
scarcely  less  deferential  than  if  they  had  sprung  from 
the  line  of  Charlemagne.  Governments  and  aristoc- 
racies did  them  honor,  and  sovereigns  received  them 
on  a  footing  curiously  like  that  of  equality.  As  for 
republics  and  democracies,  they  had  hailed  Paul  Traf- 
ford  at  first  as  the  type  they  could  produce  at  their  very 
best — the  man  who  out  of  small  beginnings  could  rise  to 
vastness  of  power,  and  then  dispense  his  means  not 
merely  in  sumptuous  living,  but  in  founding  hospitals, 
building  churches,  endowing  seats  of  learning,  and  leav- 
ing a  name  that  time  could  only  consecrate.  It  was  not 
strange  that  Paula,  living  in  the  radiation  of  so  strong  a 
character,  should  give  him  more  than  filial  affection. 
For  this  very  reason  certain  suggestions  made  to-night 
seemed  to  her  like  a  desecration.  To  fight  with  a 
woman!  To  club  her  down!  There  are  no  women  in 
business,  only  competitors!  What  did  it  mean?  For 
a  few  minutes  she  kept  silence,  pondering  her  cousin's 
words.  She  looked  straight  before  her,  trouble  cloud- 
ing in  her  Celtic  eyes  and  the  little  furrow  of  perplexity 
deepening  between  the  brows. 

26 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Did  Mrs.  Winship — ?"  she  began,  with  some 
hesitation. 

"For  mercy's  sake,  Paula,"  Mrs.  Trafford  ex- 
claimed, hastily,  "don't  get  those  Winships  on  the 
brain!  I  thought  they  were  dead  and  buried  long  ago, 
and,  dear  knows,  they've  given  us  trouble  enough." 

"Let  her  go  on,  Aunt  Julia,"  George  Trafford  rea- 
soned, calmly.  "Since  the  subject  has  come  up,  she'd 
better  know  it  just  as  it  is." 

"I  was  going  to  ask,"  Paula  said,  with  dignity,  "if 
Mrs.  Winship  thought  that  papa  had  done  her  wrong." 

"Most  people  think  you  do  them  wrong  if  you  do 
things  better  than  they  can,"  Trafford  answered, 
quickly.  "There's  no  kind  of  business,  from  the  stage 
to  the  church,  in  which  the  strong  worker  isn't  held  as 
an  enemy  by  the  feeble  and  the  indifferent.  That's 
inseparable  from  human  nature,  and  your  father  has 
had  to  face  it.  The  hostility  he  has  encountered  has 
been  in  proportion  to  his  success;  so,  naturally,  it's 
been  colossal." 

"And  I've  never  known  him  to  utter  a  harsh  word," 
Mrs.  Trafford  observed,  quaveringly.  "As  each  new 
attack  has  arisen,  he  has  faced  about  to  crush  it.  When 
that's  been  done  he  has  given  it  no  more  thought — if 
it  hasn't  been  to  help  those  he  has  beaten.  Where  he 
has  seen  people  with  ability  he  has  often  taken  them 
into  his  own  employment;  and  there  are  plenty  of 
wealthy  men  to-day  who  can  tell  you  that  their  fortunes 
were  made  when  your  father  singled  them  out  as  clever 
opponents.  There's  Henry  Desmond,  for  instance, 

27 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

who  was  only  an  obscure  young  lawyer  at  Utica  until 
he  gained  the  McTavish  case  against  us.  From  that 
very  moment  your  father  kept  his  eye  on  him,  and  when 
the  Brewer  action  was  brought  in  Albany  he  put  the 
whole  case  in  Desmond's  hand.  That  made  Des- 
mond what  he  is;  and  there  are  hundreds  of  others  of 
whom  the  same  thing  is  true.  Your  father  has  the 
most  wonderful  way  of  converting  enemies  into  friends. 
It's  a  sort  of  art  of  his.  I've  never  heard  of  it  anywhere 
else — unless  it  was  in  Mary  Queen  of  Scots." 

"Couldn't  he  have  done  that  with  the  Winships  ?" 
Paula  asked,  returning  to  the  personal  point. 

"In  business,"  Trafford  explained,  swinging  him- 
self round  so  as  to  lean  over  the  arm  of  his  chair,  and 
speaking  for  Paula's  benefit — "in  business,  most  men, 
when  they  can't  get  best,  will  turn  themselves  about  so 
as  to  put  up  with  second-best.  They  will  even  accept 
third-best  and  fourth-best  rather  than  go  with  no  ad- 
vantage whatever.  But  every  now  and  then  you  meet 
some  one  with  whom  it  must  be  all  or  nothing.  They'll 
not  bargain,  or  compromise,  or  meet  you  half-way,  or 
resort  to  any  of  the  shifts  with  which  business  men  have 
often  to  be  content.  They'll  fight  you  to  the  bitter  end, 
and  die  before  they  yield.  In  fact,  they're  people  with 
the  fighting  rather  than  the  business  instinct,  and  when 
you  meet  them  they  leave  you  no  choice  but  to  crush 
them  out  of  your  way." 

"Were  the  Winships  like  that?" 

"Yes,  they  were.  They  were  like  that,  only  worse. 
You  could  no  more  beat  modern  methods  into  old  Roger 

28 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Winship's  mind  than  you  could  into  a  mountain  of 
brass.  Because  he  was  the  largest  owner  of  coal-lands 
in  New  Hampshire,  he  looked  upon  himself  as  a  sort 
of  ruler  by  divine  right.  For  nearly  thirty  years  he  had 
operated  the  Devlin  Mines — " 

"But  they're  ours!"  Paula  exclaimed. 

"Now — yes,"  Trafford  assented,  with  a  short  laugh. 
"  But  when  your  father  first  cast  his  eyes  on  them  the 
Devlin  Coal  Company  was  practically  old  Roger  Win- 
ship.  He  worked  the  mines  and  sold  the  coal,  in  a 
humdrum,  provincial,  old-fashioned  way,  and  made  a 
handsome  income.  Then  came  your  father — with  new 
ideas,  big  ideas,  and  victory  behind  him  all  along  the 
line." 

"But  papa  didn't  want  to  take  the  Devlin  Mines 
from  Mr.  Winship  ?" 

"No;  not  at  all.  He  was  only  developing  the  plan 
with  which  he  had  begun — that  he  should  control  the 
entire  output  and  sale  of  coal  in  the  sphere  under  his 
immediate  influence.  As  you  know,  that  sphere  ex- 
panded as  he  went  on,  like  a  growing  empire.  At  first, 
when  he  was  a  young  man,  he  thought  of  coal  produc- 
tion only  within  the  State  of  Vermont  —  didn't  he, 
aunt?" 

"He  spoke  only  of  that,"  Mrs.  TrafFord  corrected. 
"His  thoughts  from  the  beginning  were  as  vast  as  his 
business  afterwards  came  to  be." 

"At  any  rate,"  George  TrafFord  continued,  "he 
began  with  Vermont,  quietly  and,  as  we  should  think 
nowadays,  very  modestly.  And  yet,  so  complete  was 

29 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

his  system,  and  so  thorough  his  organization  in  every 
detail,  that  in  a  few  years  there  was  not  a  bushel  of  coal 
mined  or  sold  from  Canada  to  the  Massachusetts  line 
that  wasn't  under  his  direct  control.  He  had  got  pos- 
session of  every  important  company  and  annexed  every 
customer,  great  and  small.  Where  any  one  showed 
fight,  he  pushed  him  out  of  the  market.  He  had  his 
agents  everywhere — not  only  in  every  town  but  in  every 
office.  There  wasn't  a  carload  of  coal  that  crossed  the 
state  of  which  he  didn't  know  the  quality,  the  value,  and 
the  destination.  If  it  wasn't  his,  his  agents  went  after 
it  and  offered  the  dealer  a  better  quality  at  a  cheaper 
rate.  If  the  dealer  refused,  then  they  went  to  his 
customers  and  cut  the  prices  right  under  the  dealer's 
nose.  In  five  years'  time  there  was  practically  not  a 
merchant  in  Vermont  who  could  sell  a  ton  of  coal  if  he 
hadn't  bought  it  from  your  father." 

"But  the  Devlin  Mines  are  in  New  Hampshire," 
Paula  argued,  eager  to  know  about  the  Winships. 

"We're  coming  to  that,"  Traffbrd  went  on,  enthusias- 
tically. "  It  wasn't  natural  that  a  business  such  as  his 
had  come  to  be  should  stop  within  the  limits  of  a  state. 
It  spilled  over  on  every  side:  into  New  York,  Massa- 
chusetts, Pennsylvania,  the  Middle  States — everywhere. 
It  crossed  the  whole  country;  the  farther  the  net  went 
out  the  easier  it  seemed  to  throw  it  farther  still.  His 
system  was  so  perfect  that  the  thing  seemed  to  go  of 
itself.  In  reality  his  method  was  simple;  it  lay  in  three 
main  points:  First,  to  get  control  of  the  means  of  trans- 
portation by  rebates  from  the  great  railway  and  steam- 

30 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

ship  lines — rebates  allowed  to  him  and  refused  to  others; 
then  to  sweep  out  competition  by  annexing  rival  com- 
panies; and  lastly  to  keep  up  prices  by  limiting  the 
supply.  If  an  independent  company  refused  to  yield 
to  his  demands,  then  he  laid  siege  to  it — siege  as  reg- 
ular, as  thorough,  as  patient,  and  as  systematic  as 
that  of  a  fortress.  He  invested  it,  so  to  speak,  by  sea 
and  land.  He  cut  off  its  means  of  transportation  by 
prohibitive  rates  and  its  customers  by  low  prices.  If 
there  was  litigation,  he  was  almost  invariably  victorious. 
In  the  end  the  rebellious  company  did  one  of  two 
things — it  capitulated  and  came  in,  or  it  went  bank- 
rupt and  Uncle  Paul  bought  it/' 

Trafford  threw  back  his  great  head,  with  a  sense  of 
exultation  in  so  much  industrial  triumph.  Mrs.  Traf- 
ford sighed  softly  as  she  recalled  the  old  days  of  ac- 
tion. Paula  sat  quite  still,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  her 
cousin  with  a  sort  of  astonished  fascination,  as  her 
mind  tried  to  comprehend  these  strange — these  brutal 
— mysteries  of  business. 

"You  ought  to  say,  George,"  young  Mrs.  Trafford 
suggested,  "that  your  uncle  never  struck  until  he  had 
made  the  most  generous  proposals." 

"That's  true,  Laura,"  her  husband  agreed.  "Paula 
should  understand  that;  and  the  Winships  make  an 
excellent  illustration.  The  Devlin  Company,"  he 
pursued,  in  a  tone  of  narrative,  "had  already  been 
pretty  hard  hit  by  us  before  your  father  began  to  give 
them  open  attention.  Of  course,  he'd  known  for  years 
what  he  was  going  to  do  with  them,  but  he's  never  one 

31 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

to  act  before  the  time.  When  he  was  ready — that  is  to 
say,  when  he  had  secured  his  rebates  on  all  their  rail- 
ways, when  he  held  their  customers  in  the  hollow  of  his 
hand,  when,  by  his  agents  whom  he  kept  in  their  em- 
ploy, he  knew  their  business  better  than  they  did  them- 
selves— he  made  his  offer.  It  was  a  good  one,  or  it 
wouldn't  have  come  from  him.  As  nearly  as  I  re- 
member, it  was  this:  They  were  to  hand  over  to  the 
Vermont  Mining  Company — that  was  your  father,  of 
course — for  the  period  of  twenty  years,  the  mines,  th<* 
plant,  and  all  their  own  time.  He  was  to  put  in  twenty 
thousand  dollars  and  his  rebates;  that  is  to  say,  they 
were  to  have  the  same  transportation  advantages  as 
ourselves.  They  were  to  limit  their  output  to  a  given 
quantity,  and  in  return  Uncle  Paul  was  to  guarantee 
them  a  profit  of  fifty  thousand  dollars  a  year.  Any 
profit  over  fifty  thousand  was  to  go  to  him." 

"Most  generous,  I  call  it,"  young  Mrs.  Traffbrd 
commented. 

"And  yet  the  old  man  refused  it,"  Trafford  said,  with 
a  short  laugh. 

"Why?"  Paula  asked,  trying  to  keep  up  with  her 
cousin's  explanations. 

"Why?"  he  echoed.  "Because  those  whom  the 
gods  wish  to  destroy  they  first  make  mad.  Old  Roger 
Winship  thought  he  could  pit  himself  against  the  man 
whose  financial  conquests  were  by  this  time  the  talk  of 
two  worlds.  You  see,  for  forty  years  the  Winships  had 
done  a  steady,  respectable  business  in  the  played-out, 
live-and-let-live  way  that  used  to  be  the  standard.  They 

32 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

had  no  notion  of  progress,  or  energy,  or  real  competi- 
tion. Your  father  had  begun  to  eat  the  heart  out  of 
their  trade  before  they  ever  heard  of  him.  By  the  time 
they  began  to  wake  up  they  were  as  good  as  ruined  al- 
ready. Your  father  knew  it  but  they  didn't.  When 
they  took  in  the  fact  they  threatened  him  with  all  the 
rigor  of  the  law." 

"Only,"  Mrs.  Trafford  added,  "they  went  beyond  the 
limits  of  propriety.  They  said  your  father  was  no  better 
than  a  common  thie — well,  no,  I  won't  say  it.  He  him- 
self is  the  last  to  bear  malice,  and  an  example  to  us  all." 

"At  any  rate,"  George  Traffbrd  pursued,  "your 
father  stepped  in  just  then  with  his  offer.  He  was 
always  for  peace  and  fair-dealing,  and  he  knew  the 
psychological  moment  had  come.  He  knew,  too,  just 
how  it  would  be  taken,  and  laid  out  his  plan  of  action 
for  five  or  six  years  ahead.  If  the  Devlin  hadn't  been  a 
sort  of  family  company,  with  all  the  shares  in  a  few 
hands,  they  would  probably  have  come  in  after  the  first 
storm  of  threats  had  blown  over.  A  body  of  share- 
holders are  generally  ready  in  the  long  run  to  eat 
humble-pie  if  their  dividends  are  assured  them.  But, 
you  see,  the  Devlin  was  practically  Roger  Winship,  a 
proud,  stubborn,  high-tempered  old  fellow  of  a  by-gone 
school.  As  hereditary  coal  king  of  New  Hampshire, 
he  felt  himself  a  match  for  any  mushroom  Trafibrd, 
and  so  he  set  to  work." 

"Very  cleverly,  it  must  be  admitted,"  Mrs.  Traffbrd 
observed.  "Your  father  always  says  that  he  went 
straight  for  the  weak  point  of  the  whole  system." 

33 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Yes  —  the  rebates,"  Trafford  went  on.  "Uncle 
knew  that  if  the  question  of  rebates  was  ever  seriously 
raised  in  law  he  couldn't  hold  out  beyond  a  certain 
point." 

"Do  you  mean  that  papa  knew  he  was  making  use 
of  an  illegal  privilege  ?"  Paula  asked. 

Trafford  was  not  expecting  a  question  of  so  much 
acumen,  and  replied,  somewhat  slowly: 

"Nothing  is  illegal  till  it's  proved  so.  He  only  made 
use  of  the  rebates  until  it  was  shown  that  he  couldn't. 
It  was  a  matter  of  public  benefit  to  have  the  question 
fought  out  and  settled.  So  when  the  New  Hampshire 
Central  refused  the  Winships  the  same  rates  for  trans- 
portation as  they  had  given  to  the  Vermont  Mining 
Company,  the  Devlin  took  the  matter  into  court.  Of 
course  your  father  stood  behind  the  railroad,  and  the 
case  was  argued  in  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas.  The 
railroad  lost,  just  as  he  thought  it  would;  but  see  what 
a  general  he  is !  He  had  the  whole  campaign  mapped 
out.  The  railroad  appealed  to  the  District  Court,  your 
father  in  the  mean  time  having  the  use  of  his  rebates. 
The  railroad  lost  again.  Then  it  appealed  to  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  State.  Still  the  rebates  went  on, 
while  at  the  same  time  your  father  was  cutting  off 
from  the  Devlin  every  ton  of  business.  Before  the  case 
was  heard  at  Concord  old  Roger  Winship  died  from  a 
stroke  of  apoplexy." 

"Brought  on,"  Mrs.  Trafford  explained,  "purely  by 
bad  temper  and  his  refusal  to  accept  your  father's  offer. 
Now,  tell  her,  George,  of  your  uncle's  magnanimity." 

34 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"It  was  just  this,"  said  Trafford — "just  what  you 
would  have  expected  him  to  do.  He  went  to  Mrs. 
Winship  personally  and  renewed  the  offer  he  had  made 
two  years  before.  In  the  mean  time,  please  take  notice, 
the  Devlin's  business  had  gone  from  bad  to  worse,  and 
yet  he  actually  renewed  the  offer  as  it  stood." 

Trafford  leaned  back,  his  thumbs  thrust  into  the  arm- 
holes  of  his  evening  waistcoat,  and  watched  the  effect 
of  this  information  upon  Paula.  The  girl  could  only 
gaze  at  him  with  the  same  troubled  expression  of  in- 
quiry, waiting  for  him  to  go  on. 

"But  Mrs.  Winship,"  he  continued,  "had  as  little 
mind  for  compromise  as  her  husband.  The  railroad 
having  already  lost  twice,  she  was  persuaded  it  would 
lose  again.  Once  there  were  no  more  rebates,  she  was 
sure  the  Devlin  would  do  its  old  work  again.  Well,  the 
railroad  lost  the  third  time,  and  appealed  to  the  Supreme 
Court  of  the  United  States.  For  the  poor  lady  that  was 
a  staggerer,  just  as  your  father  supposed  it  would  be. 
Still,  she  had  the  pluck — or  the  folly,  whichever  you 
choose  to  call  it — to  struggle  on.  The  case  went  before 
the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States,  and  the  rail- 
road lost  again.  Mrs.  Winship  was  victorious;  but — 
and  this  is  what  your  father  had  foreseen  during  the 
whole  six  years  the  fight  had  lasted — the  Devlin  Coal 
Company  was  already  in  the  hands  of  a  receiver,  and 
legal  expenses  had  eaten  up  all  the  Winships'  private 
means." 

Trafford,  having  ended  his  story,  fell  back  dramat- 
ically into  the  depths  of  his  chair. 

35 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"We  took  over  the  Devlin  Mines  the  next  year," 
Mrs.  Traffbrd  concluded.  "The  Winships  had  misman- 
aged them  terribly.  Once  they  were  thoroughly  worked 
they  became  the  most  paying  of  all  our  properties." 

There  was  a  long  silence,  broken  only  when  young 
Mrs.  Traffbrd  reminded  her  husband  that  it  was  time 
to  say  good-night. 

"Did  any  more  of  our  money  come  like  that  ?"  Paula 
asked,  suddenly. 

"Like  what?"  Traffbrd  demanded. 

"  Like  what,  Paula  ?"  came  from  Mrs.  Traffbrd  her- 
self, with  a  suggestion  of  protest  in  her  tone. 

"Like  that,"  the  girl  said,  confusedly — "like  the 
money  we  got  from  the  Winships." 

"We  got  nothing  from  the  Winships,"  Traffbrd  de- 
clared. "We  haven't  a  dollar  that  we  didn't  get  in 
business." 

"Was  it  honorable  business?" 

The  question  slipped  out  unawares.  Traffbrd  strode 
towards  her.  He  stood  looking  down  at  her,  his  hands 
in  the  pockets  of  his  evening  jacket,  his  feet  planted 
apart,  and  his  eyes  shooting  out  their  steely  rays. 

"Look  here,  Paula,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  rough 
kindliness,  "you  have  for  a  father  one  of  the  greatest 
men  God  ever  raised  up — a  man  with  a  big  mind,  a  big 
heart,  a  big  nature;  a  man  who  out  of  nothing  has  creat- 
ed one  of  the  first  positions  in  the  world;  a  man  who  has 
not  only  transformed  the  business  of  the  country,  but 
given  new  conceptions  of  business  to  the  whole  earth. 
Now,  such  a  man  as  that  is  bound  to  have  enemies, 

36 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

and  he  has  them.  All  his  life  long  he  has  been  per- 
secuted, vilified,  and  traduced.  He  has  gone  from 
court  to  court,  and  from  one  committee  of  investigation 
to  another.  What  has  been  his  crime  ?  He  has  made 
money.  He  has  made  a  lot  of  money.  To  people 
who've  tried  to  make  money  and  haven't  made  it,  that's 
crime  enough  to  warrant  any  kind  of  hounding  down. 
But  take  the  people  who  haven't  tried  to  make  money; 
take  the  people  whose  ambitions  are  elsewhere  and 
whose  minds  are  impartial.  Is  there  any  one  among 
them  who  isn't  proud  to  take  your  father  by  the  hand 
and  accept  what  he  has  to  give  ?  Is  there  a  philan- 
thropist, from  Cardinal  Gibbons  to  Bishop  Potter,  who 
isn't  glad  of  his  subscription  ?  Is  there  an  institution, 
from  Harvard  University  to  St.  John's  Floating  Hos- 
pital, that  doesn't  accept  his  donation  without  ques- 
tioning the  means  by  which  the  money  came  to  be  his  ? 
He  has  built  a  cathedral  at  Burlington,  a  hospital  at  Des 
Moines,  an  orphanage  in  St.  Louis;  he  has  endowed  a 
School  of  Mining  at  one  university,  and  an  Institute  of 
Manual  Arts  at  another;  there  are  charitable  schemes  all 
over  the  country  that  owe  their  chief  support  to  your 
father.  Is  there  a  doubtful  note  on  the  part  of  any 
person  or  any  corporation,  civil  or  ecclesiastical,  that 
has  received  his  benefactions  ?  None.  Mind  you,  I'm 
quoting  to  you  not  the  common  standard  of  the  world, 
but  the  standard  of  men  devoted  to  the  religious,  moral, 
or  educational  welfare  of  their  fellows.  One  and  all 
they  have  taken  his  money  as  money  which  he  had  an 
honest  right  to  bestow.  Now,  isn't  that  enough  for 

37 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

you  ?  Haven't  you  got  a  mass  of  moral  testimony  there 
that  nobody  can  go  behind  or  bring  into  dispute  ?  The 
man  who  impeaches  your  father  to-day  must  prac- 
tically impeach  all  the  religious,  philanthropic,  and 
educational  opinion  in  the  United  States.  Don't  you 
begin  to  do  it." 

He  stood  looking  down  at  her,  smiling  in  kindly 
admonition.  Young  Mrs.  Trafford  came  up  and  slipped 
her  arm  through  his,  smiling  down  at  her  too.  The 
mother  joined  them,  with  an  affectionate  injunction  to 
dismiss  all  foolish  and  fatiguing  thoughts  and  go  to  bed. 

The  girl  made  no  reply  to  any  of  them.  She  smiled 
rather  wistfully  in  response  to  their  good-night  wishes, 
and  told  them  she  would  put  out  the  lights.  Then  she 
sat  still,  alone  and  pondering,  trying  to  sift  and  co-or- 
dinate the  mass  of  information  she  had  just  received. 

It  was  late  when  she  rose  to  go  away.  On  the  table 
beside  her  lay  the  five  gold  pieces  she  had  brought 
home  an  hour  or  two  ago.  "The  Winship  money," 
she  half  muttered  to  herself.  "What  father  did  to  his 
father  I  seem  to  have  done  to  him." 

She  picked  up  the  coins  one  by  one  and  pressed  them 
in  her  palm.  Suddenly,  before  she  could  control  her- 
self, the  tears  rose  and  ran  down  her  cheeks.  As  she 
dashed  them  away  it  seemed  as  if  a  figure  rose  before 
her  through  the  mist  they  made.  It  was  not  the  man 
with  the  brown  beard  and  the  gleaming  eyes  she  had  seen 
that  night;  it  was  the  blind  woman,  who  had  gone  on 
from  court  to  court  and  from  year  to  year,  till  her  father 
had  been  forced  at  last  to  "club  her  down." 

38 


CHAPTER   IV 

OF  all  the  Traffbrd  family  it  was  Paula  who  had 
least  of  the  clearness  of  vision  and  promptness 
of  action  that  were  so  remarkable  in  her  parents.  Her 
thought  worked  slowly  and  somewhat  illogically.  She 
was  not  capable  of  large  conceptions,  and  when  she 
tried  to  trace  for  herself  a  definite  line  of  duty  it  soon 
lost  itself  in  vagueness.  In  a  small  way  of  life  she  would 
have  fulfilled  the  daily  task  with  scrupulous  devotion, 
helped  by  the  very  absence  of  choice;  but  as  mistress  of 
a  fortune  such  as  that  which  she  was  already  allowed 
to  spend  she  felt  herself  bewildered.  It  was  as  if  she 
had  a  bird's  range  of  flight  without  the  bird's  instinct 
for  finding  the  way. 

She  was  conscious  of  this  as  she  sat,  on  the  follow- 
ing morning,  looking  over  her  correspondence.  Every- 
thing in  the  room  about  her  suggested  wealth.  She 
herself,  in  a  soft,  trailing  garment  that  seemed  to  be 
woven  of  gossamer  and  the  petals  of  pale-pink  flowers, 
looked  as  far  removed  from  the  practical  side  of  life  as 
a  Princess  de  Lamballe  or  Dauphiness  Marie  Antoinette. 
Her  coffee,  brought  to  her  in  the  gold-plate  service  kept 
in  the  hotel  as  a  delicate  attention  to  passing  royalties, 
was  beside  her  on  the  table,  and  she  sipped  as  she  read. 

39 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

The  Duke's  daily  letter  she  glanced  through  first, 
laying  it  down  with  a  sigh.  When  she  had  read  the 
notes  from  her  friends,  she  separated  the  letters  of  in- 
vitation from  those  of  premature  congratulation  on  her 
reported  engagement.  Then  she  attacked  the  large 
pile  of  envelopes,  the  nature  of  whose  contents  she 
knew  only  too  well.  They  were  all  requests  for  con- 
tributions of  money  to  charities  of  various  kinds,  and 
she  swept  them  aside  with  a  gesture  of  impatience. 
In  spite  of  herself,  her  thoughts  went  back  to  the  man 
she  had  seen  last  night — the  man  who  was  "evidently  a 
gentleman,"  but  who  "looked  poor." 

For  a  man  to  "look  poor"  seemed  to  Paula  the  last 
touch  of  the  pitiable.  All  the  men  with  whom  she 
had  much  to  do  had  at  least  the  outward  air  of  riches. 
This  man,  on  the  contrary,  bore  the  very  stamp  of  one 
obliged  to  deny  himself.  Yes,  that  was  it.  She  could 
see  it  now.  It  was  not  poverty  that  he  expressed  so 
much  as  self-denial.  The  very  clothes  he  wore  were 
threadbare.  She  had  noticed  that  detail,  sub-con- 
sciously at  the  time,  and  now  it  came  back  to  her 
significantly.  Well,  he  had  a  mother  and  a  sister  de- 
pendent on  him;  it  was  only  too  likely  that  he  should 
be  forced  into  personal  privation.  It  was  not  the 
nobleness  of  the  sacrifice  that  appealed  to  Paula;  that 
was  not  the  standard  by  which  she  had  been  taught  to 
judge;  it  was  rather  the  pitifulness  involved  in  the 
necessity  for  making  that  kind  of  sacrifice  at  all.  The 
men  of  her  family  put  forth  gigantic  efforts,  and  carried 
them  out  to  gigantic  successes.  She  understood  that; 

40 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

she  was  used  to  it;  but  that  a  man  of  her  own  world, 
one  who  was  on  such  footing  as  to  be  casually  presented 
to  herself — that  such  a  man  should  be  driven  to  pinch- 
ing, sordid,  petty  economies  in  clothing,  and  perhaps 
in  food,  had  in  it  something  of  the  shameful.  It  put 
him  at  once,  in  her  imagination,  into  the  class  of  people 
without  money — the  seekers,  the  wheedlers,  the  beg- 
gars. She  was  not  indifferent  to  poverty,  but  she  could 
not  help  being  distrustful  of  it.  She  had  seen  so  much 
of  it,  fawning  and  whining,  with  the  back  bent  and  the 
hand  out-stretched!  She  could  not  remember  the  time 
when  they,  the  Traffords,  had  not  been  tracked  down 
by  petitioners.  They  had  moved  among  them  like 
European  tourists  among  Egyptian  fellaheen,  with 
cries  for  backsheesh  forever  ringing  in  their  ears. 
Whether  from  the  individual  or  the  institution,  the 
demand  for  money  never  ceased. 

She  had  come  to  give  carelessly,  with  a  kind  of  royal 
prodigality,  but  none  the  less  with  a  certain  contempt 
for  those  who  asked  of  her.  They  wearied  her,  they 
goaded  her.  There  were  so  many  of  them  that  she 
was  tempted  to  class  every  one  who  had  not  huge  means 
of  his  own  among  their  number.  For  the  minute  she 
saw  Roger  Winship  there.  He  was  poor;  that  surely 
was  a  sufficient  reason  why  he  should  put  his  hand  out 
like  the  rest. 

Then  came  the  thought  of  what  had  made  him  poor. 
She  went  over  again  the  discussion  of  last  night.  Her 
father  had  eaten  the  heart  out  of  the  Winships'  business 
before  they  had  ever  heard  of  him!  He  had  laid  out  his 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

plan  of  campaign  to  ruin  them  five  or  six  years  ahead! 
What  did  it  mean  ?  What  could  she  do  ?  Could  she 
do  anything  ?  Was  there  a  right  and  a  wrong  to  the 
situation  ? 

She  leaned  her  head  on  her  hand  and  tried  to  think; 
but  the  complex  questions  at  issue  were  of  the  sort  that 
baffled  her  intelligence.  Her  mind  could  only  shift 
aimlessly  about,  as  in  a  labyrinth,  where  all  the  paths 
led  to  nothing.  She  felt  herself  beating  about  in  de- 
spair, in  search  of  a  way,  when  Mrs.  George  TrafFord 
came  tripping  in  and  pointed  out  the  direction. 

She  had  knocked  lightly  at  the  door,  but  had  en- 
tered without  waiting  for  an  answer.  She,  too,  was 
in  a  morning  costume,  but  one  significantly  unlike 
Paula's.  It  was  of  white  linen,  belted  in  at  the  waist 
with  pale  blue.  It  was  neat  and  trim  and  cleared 
the  ground,  setting  off  her  small  figure  to  perfection. 

"Good-morning,  Laura,"  Paula  said,  rather  wearily. 

"  Good  -  morning,  dear,"  Mrs.  TrafFord  returned, 
briskly. 

They  kissed  each  other  in  a  pecking  fashion,  and  Mrs. 
TrafFord  sank  into  the  nearest  chair.  No  one  could 
see  her  without  being  sure  that  she  was  the  sort  of 
woman  to  go  to  her  point  at  once. 

"I  simply  had  to  come  to  you,  dear,  before  you  had 
a  chance  to  go  out.  I've  been  so  distressed  about 
the  conversation  of  last  night.  I've  told  George  that 
he  shouldn't  hurl  things  at  you  like  that." 

"What  things  ?"  Paula  demanded,  holding  herself 
erect,  and  flushing. 

42 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"About  your  father,  dear.  You  might  easily  mis- 
understand— " 

"I  should  never  misunderstand  to  the  extent  of 
thinking  he  had  done  wrong,"  the  girl  said,  haughtily. 

"No,  of  course  not.  But  I  know  exactly  how  you 
feel,  because  I've  had  times  of  feeling  that  way  my- 
self." 

"You  mean —  ?"  Paula  began,  and  stopped  abruptly. 
.Her  eyes  clouded,  and  the  tiny  furrow  marked  itself  be- 
tween her  brows  as  she  gazed  straight  before  her, 
trying  to  shape  her  thought. 

Mrs.  Trafford  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and  waited. 
She  was  a  pretty  woman,  with  the  cold,  clear-cut 
daintiness  of  a  statuette  in  biscuit  de  Stvres.  When 
George  Trafford  married  her  it  was  a  surprise  to  every 
one  but  herself.  A  Western  girl,  the  daughter  of  a 
doctor  in  a  small  country  town,  she  had  the  Western 
ability  to  meet  poverty  just  as,  when  it  came,  she  had 
the  Western  readiness  to  accept  wealth.  She  had  not 
looked  for  wealth  — certainly  not  such  wealth  as  George 
Trafford's  —  but  she  knew  her  capacity  to  fill  any 
position,  and  she  entered  upon  her  new  career  with 
plenty  of  self-confidence. 

The  marriage  was  something  of  a  public  event,  es- 
pecially in  the  West.  Even  in  New  York  there  was 
some  curiosity  over  the  advent  of  a  penniless  country 
girl  suddenly  lifted  to  such  a  giddy  height  of  fortune. 
Laura  knew  that  people  expected  her  head  to  be  turned. 
They  looked  at  least  to  be  amused  by  that  wild  splash- 
ing in  money  supposed  to  be  characteristic  of  those 

43 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

who  have  been  hurriedly  made  rich,  especially  when 
their  antecedents  have  lain  beyond  the  Mississippi. 
But  they  had  reckoned  without  the  personal  knowledge 
of  one  who  knew  thoroughly  her  own  mind.  In  coming 
to  New  York  Laura  felt  herself  raised  up  for  the  pur- 
pose of  illustrating  the  correct  and  conscientious  use 
of  wealth. 

By  this  time  the  social  position  of  the  Traffords  in 
New  York  had  been  secured.  After  living  in  Cleve- 
land, St.  Louis,  Washington,  and  elsewhere,  according 
to  the  needs  of  Mr.  Trafford's  growing  empire,  they 
had  come  to  New  York  as  comparative  strangers. 
Their  reception  by  the  high  powers  ruling  there  had 
been  one  of  mingled  coldness  and  curiosity.  Little 
by  little,  however,  they  had  passed  through  the  neces- 
sary stages  of  initiation,  so  that  when  Mrs.  George 
Trafford  made  her  entry  it  was  into  an  uncontested 
place.  In  spite  of  the  Mississippi,  there  was  no  reason 
why,  as  a  bride  unusually  pretty  and  incomparably 
rich,  she  should  not  become  one  of  that  chosen  oligarchy 
of  ladies  whose  golden  sceptre  sways  over  the  American 
metropolis. 

And  yet  she  had  the  courage  to  snub — gently,  cour- 
teously, but  none  the  less  decidedly  to  snub — those 
two  great  potentates,  Mrs.  Van  Rensselaer  Smith  and 
Mrs.  Stuyvesant  Jones,  when,  through  sheer  kindness, 
they  united  their  rival  forces  to  come  and  tell  her  so. 
She  should  have  no  time  for  mere  amusement  she  in- 
formed them.  The  duties  of  her  position  would  tax 
her  strength  to  the  utmost.  Besides,  she  shrank  from 

44 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

ostentation,  from  anything  that  made  a  parade  of  the 
mere  power  to  spend.  True  refinement  lay  in  making 
as  little  display  as  possible,  didn't  it?  None,  in  fact, 
could  know  it  better  than  themselves.  The  responsi- 
bility of  wealth  involved  so  many  considerations  for 
others  that  one's  self  and  one's  legitimate,  one's  natural 
tastes  were  driven  to  the  background. 

She  looked  at  them  with  such  clear,  gray  eyes,  was 
so  frank,  so  naive,  and  (as  they  thought)  so  Western, 
that  Mrs.  Van  Rensselaer  Smith  and  Mrs.  Stuyvesant 
Jones  were  nonplussed  rather  than  offended.  They 
liked  her  for  her  independence,  and  were  certainly 
amused.  If  she  wanted  to  help  others  with  her  money, 
goodness  knew  there  was  room  enough,  they  said,  when 
they  went  away.  They  were  the  last  people  in  the 
world  to  object  to  it.  Besides,  when  she  had  helped 
a  few,  she  would  have  enough  of  such  a  thankless  task 
as  that.  She  had  snubbed  them — that  was  plain — but 
they  were  so  unused  to  the  process  that  they  almost  en- 
joyed it.  She  would  have  other  ideas  when  she  was  a 
little  older,  and  then  they  would  take  her  up  again. 

But  the  years  were  slipping  by  and  Laura  was  true 
to  the  principles  with  which  she  started.  The  only 
display  she  made  was  of  the  fact  that  she  made  no  dis- 
play; her  only  ostentation  was  that  of  her  lack  of 
ostentation.  She  made  no  secret  of  the  fact  that  she 
looked  upon  wealth  as  a  heavy  burden.  "Mr.  Traf- 
ford  and  I  have  no  pleasure  like  that  of  giving  away," 
she  sighed,  not  only  in  private  but  in  public.  They 
did  give  away  on  a  scale  of  superb  munificence.  By 

45 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

confining  their  gifts  to  what  would  refine,  elevate,  and 
educate  the  masses  at  large,  they  took  care  not  to 
pauperize  or  encourage  idleness.  Schools,  colleges, 
libraries,  and  art  museums  had  the  chief  benefit  of  their 
generosity.  The  grim  want  of  individuals  did  not  ap- 
peal to  them,  "because,"  so  Mrs.  TrafFord  said,  "there 
were  so  few  cases  in  which  the  after-effects  of  charity 
were  not  deleterious."  She  liked  to  feel  that  her 
liberality  had  a  sound  commercial  basis. 

You  needn't  be  afraid  to  speak  out  with  me,  Paula, 
dear,"  she  said,  encouragingly,  when  the  girl  had  been 
a  long  time  silent.  "As  I've  told  you  already,  I've 
been  through  it  all,  and  I  want  to  help  you.  Before 
I  married  George  I'd  heard  lots  of  things  about  Uncle 
TrafFord  that — well,  that  rather  shocked  me." 

Again  Paula  lifted  her  head  haughtily,  but  Laura 
hurried  on. 

"I  had  to  reason  everything  out  before  I  could  see 
how  right  he  was.  If  I  hadn't  been  able  to  come  to 
that  conclusion  I  could  never  have  accepted  George. 
Now,  here's  a  principle  which,  George  says,  people  in 
our  position  must  never  lose  sight  of:  you  can't  go  be- 
hind the  law.  If  the  law  is  on  your  side,  you  must  be 
right." 

"  But  can't  the  law  be  outwitted  ?"  Paula  asked, 
ponderingly.  "It  seems  to  me  I've  heard  of  that." 

"I  believe  it  can,  but  George  says  Uncle  TrafFord 
never  tried  to  do  it.  That's  where  he's  been  so 
able." 

"Did  he — ?  Tell  me  frankly,  Laura,  please.  I 
46 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

know  he  didn't,  but  I  must  ask  you.     Did  he,  in  your 
opinion,  ever  do  anything  that  wasn't  honorable  ?" 

"George  says,"  Mrs.  Trafford  answered,  slowly, 
"that  business  is  a  good  deal  like  whist.  Each  player 
holds  his  portion  of  the  cards,  out  of  which  he's  per- 
mitted to  win  the  game  by  any  means  short  of  cheating. 
It's  acknowledged  beforehand  that  there's  no  place  in 
the  play  for  mercy  or  unselfishness.  The  game  goes 
to  him  who  can  get  it.  There  are  commonly  accepted 
rules  that  he  can  observe  or  not,  as  he  chooses.  What 
justifies  him  is  his  success,  and  if  he  wins  the  question 
of  honor  or  dishonor  isn't  raised.  Now,  dear,  your 
father  is  an  amazingly  clever  player  of  the  game.  He 
can  win  it  when  his  opponents  hold  all  the  best  cards 
and  more  than  half  the  trumps.  It  isn't  his  place  to 
consider  them;  it's  his  duty  to  take  the  tricks.  If  he 
takes  a  great  many  tricks — a  great,  great  many  tricks 
— his  skill  can't  be  called  dishonor,  can  it  ?  It's  skill, 
that's  all;  and  nothing  is  more  admirable  than  skill  in 
anything." 

"  But  if  it's  skill  to  bring  trouble  and  worry  and  want 
to  some  people,  and  to  others — to  us,  for  instance — 
millions  more  than  we  can  ever  use — " 

"There's  no  such  skill  as  that,  dear,"  Mrs.  Traffbrd 
argued,  in  a  virtuous  tone.  "From  the  beginning  of 
history  wealth  has  always  been  a  stewardship,  and  it 
has  gone  into  the  hands  of  certain  stewards.  If  you 
are  a  steward,  it's  much  more  important  to  fulfil  your 
stewardship  than  to  question  the  means  by  which  you 
were  appointed." 

47 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"But,"  said  Paula,  doubtfully,  "couldn't  part  of  the 
stewardship  be — to  make  reparation  ?" 

"Reparation  isn't  as  easy  at  it  looks,  dear.  It's  not 
only  a  matter  of  giving,  but  a  matter  of  taking.  When 
one  side  is  willing  to  offer  it,  the  other,  perhaps,  isn't 
ready  to  accept  it." 

"But  if  it  were  money?  Anybody  would  accept 
money." 

"No,  anybody  won't  accept  money,  strange  as  it 
may  seem.  There  are  people — we  may  not  know  many 
of  them — but  there  are  people  who  put  money  a  long 
way  after  pride.  I've  got  a  good  mind  to  tell  you  some- 
thing that  George  and  I  have  always  kept  from  you. 
It  would  show  you." 

Paula  looked  her  interrogation. 

"It's  about  your  father." 

"Do  tell  me,  Laura,  please." 

"Well,  the  beginning  of  it  was  a  long  time  ago,  when 
we  lived  in  Turtonville,  Wisconsin.  It  was  ages  before 
I  ever  imagined  I  should  marry  one  of  the  Traffords. 
Your  father  at  that  time  had  some  trouble  out  there 
with  a  man  named  Marshall.  I  don't  know  exactly 
what  it  was,  but  it  was  something  like  what  we  were 
talking  of  last  night." 

"Not  the  Winships  ?"  Paula  cried,  painfully.  "There 
wasn't  another  case  like  that?  Tell  me,  Laura!" 

"No,  it  wasn't  a  bit  like  that;  it  was  just  something 
in  the  same  line.  What  I'm  coming  to  is  this:  Mar- 
shall was  the  rich  man  of  Turtonville.  He  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  coal,  of  course;  and  he  had  four 

48 


THE  GIANTS   STRENGTH 

daughters,  all  very  plain.  One  of  them  was  an  old 
maid  from  the  time  I  can  begin  to  remember.  Well, 
when  the  trouble  started,  your  father  began  pushing 
Marshall  and  pushing  him  and  pushing  him — till  at 
last  he  pushed  him  out  of  his  business  altogether. 
Then  Marshall  shot  himself." 

"Oh,  Laura,  don't  tell  me  any  more." 

"It  was  all  Marshall's  fault,  dear.  Your  father 
didn't  make  him  shoot  himself.  That  was  perfectly 
gratuitous  on  Marshall's  part.  But  it's  about  the  old 
Miss  Marshalls  that  I  want  to  tell  you.  After  their 
father  died  and  they  were  so  poor,  they  had  to  turn 
their  hands  to  anything  for  a  living.  They  did  sew- 
ing and  made  cake  and  put  up  pickles  and  painted 
doilies—" 

"Oh,  how  dreadful,  Laura!" 

"And  they  did  pretty  well  till  the  eldest  one  fell  ill. 
That  was  the  very  summer  I  was  married;  and  one 
day,  in  the  winter  after,  I  happened  to  mention  them 
to  your  father." 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad.     I  know  he  was  good  to  them!" 

"Yes;  he  sent  them  a  thousand  dollars,  anonymous- 
ly, through  their  minister.  He  gave  the  strictest  orders 
that  his  name  was  never  to  be  known,  but  when  they 
had  spent  a  couple  of  hundred  of  it  the  foolish  clergy- 
man told  them.  That  was  enough.  The  sick  one  got 
up  out  of  her  dying  bed  and  went  to  work.  It  was  as 
if  her  pride  had  healed  her.  For  two  years  they  toiled 
and  saved  till  they  had  got  together  as  much  as  they 
had  spent.  Then  they  returned  the  full  thousand  to 

49 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

your  father.  He  told  me  about  it,  and  I  know  it  cut 
him  to  the  quick.  He's  forgiven  them,  though,  great 
heart  that  he  is!  And  he's  asked  me  several  times  to 
do  what  I  can  for  them." 

"And  you've  done  it,  Laura  ?" 

"Indeed  I  have!  I  couldn't  send  them  money,  of 
course,  after  their  treatment  of  Uncle  TrafFord.  Be- 
sides, I  never  run  the  risk  of  pauperizing  any  one. 
What  I've  done  has  been  to  give  them  work.  They 
sew  beautifully,  and  I've  managed  to  let  them  have  all 
the  house-linen,  both  for  Newport  and  Tuxedo,  with- 
out a  suspicion  on  their  part  that  it  was  for  our  family. 
Naturally,  I  had  to  do  it  through  a  third  person,  for 
they  wouldn't  have  touched  it  if  they  had  known." 

"Are  there  really  people  in  the  world  who  feel 
towards  us  like  that?"  Paula  questioned,  with  an  air 
of  distress. 

"I  suppose,"  Mrs.  Traffbrd  replied,  in  her  practical 
way — "I  suppose  they  feel  towards  us  much  as  the 
French  do  towards  the  Germans.  It  can't  be  very 
pleasant  for  the  Germans  to  be  hated  so,  and  yet  they 
have  Alsace-Lorraine  to  console  them.  I  don't  blame 
the  Miss  Marshalls.  I  say  it's  very  natural  in  their 
situation.  I  do  all  I  can  to  alleviate  their  condition, 
and  I  believe  I  succeed.  Their  work  is  really  exquisite, 
and  I  find  that,  even  after  paying  the  express  charges, 
it  is  cheaper  than  it  would  be  in  New  York.  Now  the 
third  person  of  whom  I  spoke — if  you  must  know  who 
it  is,  it's  that  Miss  Green  who  works  in  the  College 
Settlement  in  Bleecker  Street — she  wants  me  to  take  a 

5° 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

lot  of  their  painted  doilies,  but  I  feel  that  I  must  draw 
the  line  at  that." 

"I'll  take  them,"  Paula  said,  instantly.  "I'll  take 
as  many  as  they  can  paint,  if  they  go  on  painting  all 
the  rest  of  their  lives." 

It  was  this  sort  of  impulsive  generosity  that  contra- 
dicted all  Mrs.  Traffbrd's  well-thought-out  principles  of 
benevolence.  It  lacked  the  element  of  the  practical 
good  of  both  parties,  as  well  as  the  sense  of  the  respon- 
sibility of  wealth. 

"Then  you'd  be  making  a  mistake,"  she  said,  blunt- 
ly. "You'd  be  wasting  both  your  own  money  and  their 
time.  There  are  three  useful  things  that  they  can  do: 
they  can  sew,  they  can  make  cake,  and  they  can  put  up 
pickles.  Why  on  earth  should  they  want  to  do  paint- 
ing-?" 

"But  painting  is  a  useful  thing,"  Paula  interrupted, 
a  little  warmly. 

"Exactly.  And  that  brings  me  right  to  the  thing  I 
came  in  to  say.  I  know  what's  been  on  your  mind  ever 
since  last  night.  I  know  it,  because  it's  been  on  my 
mind,  too.  I  always  feel  for  those  cases  where  there's 
been  a  previous  —  connection  with  the  family,  so  to 
speak.  I  know  it's  Uncle  Trafford's  wish  that  we 
should  make  things  as  easy  for  them  as  we  can.  Now, 
why  shouldn't  you  have  this  Mr.  Winship  paint  your 
portrait  ?" 

"Oh,  Laura,  I  couldn't!"  the  girl  cried,  flushing. 

"Couldn't  ?  Of  course  you  could.  It's  the  thing  to 
do.  He  could  paint  you  and  the  Duke  and  me  and 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

our  little  Paul,  and  perhaps  I  might  even  get  George 
to  sit  to  him.  I  suppose  Aunt  Traffbrd  never  would. 
Anyhow,  he  could  do  all  of  us,  and  we'd  pay  him  very 
good  prices — nothing  fabulous,  mind  you,  nothing  of 
that  kind,  but  what  for  him  would  be  generous  prices. 
Just  think  of  all  it  would  mean  to  him!  It  wouldn't 
be  only  the  money — though  that,  of  course,  would  be  a 
great  deal — it  would  be  the  reclame,  the  advertisement. 
It  would  pose  him  before  the  world;  it  would  set  him 
up  for  life.  Then  we  should  be  rid  of  the  worry  of 
thinking  about  him.  Of  course,  I  can  see  it  would  be 
a  bore  to  you,"  she  added,  as  Paula  still  seemed  to 
hesitate,  "but  people  like  ourselves,  with  the  responsi- 
bility of  wealth  upon  them,  can't  stop  at  a  duty  merely 
because  it's  a  bore." 

"You're  a  wonderful  woman,  Laura,"  Paula  said 
at  last,  her  eyes  suffused  with  that  Celtic  softness  which 
is  midway  between  smiles  and  tears.  "You've  such 
good  ideas,  and  such  sound  ones.  I  won't  say  that  I'll 
do  it,  but  I'll  think  it  over.  But  if  I  come  to  it,"  she 
went  on,  stammering  slightly,  "you — mustn't  think — 
that  it  is  because  I  have  any  doubt  of — of — father." 

As  she  uttered  the  last  words  there  came  a  sharp 
rap  at  the  door,  and  Paul  Trafford  himself  entered. 


CHAPTER  V 

HE  strode  in  with  his  characteristic  air  of  com- 
mand, and  Paula,  springing  up,  threw  her  arms 
about  him.  The  two  were  always  expressive  in  their 
affection  for  each  other,  but  this  morning  there  was 
in  Paula's  "Oh,  papa!"  a  variety  of  emotions  of  which 
she  herself  could  have  given  but  a  confused  account. 
It  was  as  if  she  had  received  him  back  again  after 
the  nightmare  of  having  lost  him.  He  clasped  her  to 
him,  looking  down  at  her  with  that  kind  of  impres- 
sive tenderness  for  which  very  strong  faces  alone  have 
the  capacity. 

It  was  no  wonder  that  she  was  proud  of  him — this 
handsome  giant  of  over  six  feet  three,  before  whom  all 
the  fast-barred  gates  of  life  had  yielded.  Even  age 
seemed  powerless  to  lay  more  than  the  lightest  hand 
upon  him.  His  sixty-five  years  had  deepened  the  lines 
on  his  rocklike  face,  and  brought  a  little  gray  into  the 
mustache  that  curving  upward  revealed  the  set  of  the 
close  lips,  but  they  had  done  little  more.  The  hair  was 
scarcely  silvered,  and  the  eyes  still  had  the  vivacity  of 
an  eager,  stern-faced  boy's.  They  were  the  Trafford 
eyes — blue  with  black  lashes,  and,  in  his  case,  with 
heavy,  overhanging  brows. 

53 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Paula  slipped  from  his  embrace,  and  they  exchanged 
the  usual  morning  greetings.  Trafford  kissed  his  niece, 
and  inquired  for  George  and  little  Paul.  It  was  clear 
to  the  two  women,  accustomed  to  observe  the  slightest 
signs  of  his  wishes,  that  he  had  come  on  some  special 
errand;  so  Laura,  after  reminding  Paula  that  she  and 
the  Duke  were  to  lunch  with  George  and  herself  at 
Giro's,  made  some  excuse  for  running  away. 

Paula  resumed  her  seat,  while  her  father  moved  about 
the  room  with  unusual  restlessness. 

"That's  a  pretty  thing  you've  got  on,"  he  observed, 
coming  back  to  her  side.  "Aren't  you  looking  a  lit- 
tle pale  to  -  day  ?"  he  continued,  stroking  her  cheek. 
"What's  all  this?" 

He  turned  over,  with  a  toss,  the  letters  of  petition  she 
had  opened,  and,  with  characteristic  attention  to  small 
details,  ran  his  eye  over  them. 

"You  might  send  something  there,"  he  advised,  "and 
there.  I  wouldn't  pay  any  regard  to  that.  You  might 
inquire  into  this  one;  and,  of  course,  you  must  see  that 
that  poor  little  French  girl  has  what  comfort  you  can 
give  her.  I'm  going  to  Vienna,"  he  finished,  abruptly. 
"Oh  no,  papa!"  she  pleaded.  "Not  now!  Not  just 
now!" 

"I  must,  dear.  I've  tried  to  get  out  of  it,  but  there 
are  very  large  interests  at  stake,  and  I'm  obliged 
to  go." 

He  drew  a  small  chair  towards  her  and  sat  down. 
With  his  arms  folded  on  the  table,  he  looked  across  at 
her.  Before  that  gaze  her  own  glance  fell.  It  was  as 

54 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

though  the  mingling  of  strength  and  adoration  in  it 
were  too  much  for  her  to  support  without  flinching. 
The  roselike  color  came  and  went  in  her  cheek,  and 
stole  up  into  her  white,  blue-veined  temples,  while  Paul 
Trafford  wondered,  as  he  did  ten  times  every  day,  how 
it  was  that,  out  of  his  sheer  force  and  his  wife's  mere 
buxomness,  there  had  sprung  this  exquisite  flower  of  a 
child. 

"Yes,  dear,  I'm  obliged  to  go,"  he  repeated.  "I'm 
sorry  it  has  to  be  now — just  now.  You  know  why, 
don't  you  ?" 

She  lifted  her  eyes  and  let  them  fall  again. 

"I  suppose  I  do,  papa." 

"I  don't  want  to  hurry  you,"  he  went  on,  with  what, 
for  him,  was  curious  timidity,  "and  I  wouldn't  on  my 
own  account — not  for  a  second.  But,  darling,  we  ought 
to  think  of — of  him,  oughtn't  we  ?  Don't  you  think 
he's  been  very  patient  ?  It's  over  a  month  now." 

"I  find  it  very  hard  to  decide,  papa." 

"Could  you  tell  me  why,  dear?  I  might  be  able  to 
help  you." 

"You'd  like  it  very  much,  wouldn't  you,  papa?" 

"Yes;  but  that  isn't  a  reason  for  you,"  he  answered, 
promptly.  "I  want  my  little  girl  to  marry  to  please 
herself,  not  me." 

"And  yet  I  can't  help  taking  what  pleases  you  into 
consideration  —  into  deep  consideration.  And  I've 
wondered  a  little  papa,"  she  continued,  looking  up  at 
him,  "why  you've  been  so  anxious  about  this  one,  when 
you've  been  so  indifferent,  if  not  opposed,  to  the  others." 

55 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

"I'll  tell  you,  darling.  I'll  give  you  my  point  of  view. 
But,  mark  you,  it  can't  be  yours;  it  mustn't  be  yours. 
From  the  very  nature  of  things,  you  and  I  approach 
this  subject  from  different  angles.  First  of  all,  I  have 
to  remember  that  I'm  no  longer  a  young  man,  and  that 
I  have  a  great  treasure  to  leave  behind." 

"  But,  papa,  darling,  I'd  rather  not  think  of  it  in  that 
light." 

"No,  but  I  must.  There's  the  difference  of  angle  at 
once.  If  one  of  your  brothers  had  lived,  or  even  one 
of  your  sisters,  perhaps,  I  shouldn't  feel  so  keenly  about 
it  as  I  do.  But  you're  all  that's  left  to  us — " 

"Then  why  not  keep  me  with  you  as  long  as  pos- 
sible ?" 

"We're  not  going  to  lose  you.  We  shall  never  be 
far  away  from  you,  at  any  time.  Your  mother  and  I 
have  quite  made  up  our  minds  to  that.  Life  wouldn't 
be  worth  anything  to  me  if  I  couldn't  see  my  little  girl 
when  I  wanted  to;  that  is,  within  reason." 

She  leaned  across  the  table  and  laid  her  hand  on  his, 
smiling  into  his  face  with  shining  eyes. 

"And  so,  dearest,  since  my  treasure  is  so  great,  it 
would  be  a  comfort  to  me,  as  I  go  downhill,  to  know 
that  it  was  in  safe,  in  very  safe,  hands." 

"And  you  think  his  are  the  best?" 

"They  are  the  best  I  know.  I  can't  think  of  any 
man  I've  ever  met  of  whom  I  should  feel  sure,  with  so 
few  reserves — without  any  reserves  at  all.  Listen  to 
me,"  he  pursued,  in  another  tone,  patting  her  hand, 
which  still  lay  out-stretched  towards  him  on  the  table. 

56 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Listen  to  me,  and  I'll  expose  my  whole  reason  to  you 
in  a  way  you  will  understand.  I  repeat,  that  it  is  the 
reason  which  guides  me,  but  it's  not  to  guide  you. 
Yours  must  be  a  different  motive  and  a  surer  one. 
Still,  it  may  help  you  in  making  your  decision,  if  you 
know  what  has  enabled  me  to  come  to  mine.  In  the 
first  place,  he  loves  you.  Of  course,  you  know  that." 

She  nodded  and  let  her  eyes  fall  again. 

"Then,  I  think  my  little  girl  has,  to  say  the  least,  a 
very  sincere  regard  for  him." 

She  nodded  again,  still  with  eyes  downcast. 

"And  then,  he's  not  a  man  who  would  love  to-day 
and  forget  to-morrow.  He  is  essentially  good,  kind, 
loyal,  and  devoted.  Your  mother  and  I  would  have 
none  of  that  wretched  uncertainty  of  parents  who  say 
to  each  other,  'Oh,  I  hope  he  will  be  good  to  her!' 
We  would  be  sure  of  that  beforehand.  You  see,  dear, 
we've  protected  you  so,  we've  got  so  strongly  the  habit 
of  protecting  you,  that  it's  like  pain  to  us  to  think  that 
any  wind  of  unkindness  could  ever  blow  on  you." 

"  Papa,  darling,"  she  broke  in,  with  a  choking  of  the 
voice,  "couldn't  I  stay  with  you  always,  and  not  marry 
any  one  ?" 

"Certainly,  dear.  There's  not  the  slightest  reason 
why  you  shouldn't  be  an  old  maid,  if  you  want  to.  But, 
in  the  mean  time,  let  me  go  on.  Wiltshire  is  not  only 
a  good  man  who  loves  you,  but  he's  a  very  rich  man." 

"I  shouldn't  think  that  mattered,"  she  said,  lifting 
her  head  suddenly. 

"Only  in  this  way,  that  in  our  position  it's  a  guarantee. 

5  57 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

He's  one  of  the  rich  men  of  a  rich  country.  There's 
no  possible  reason  why  he  should  marry  any  woman 
for  any  other  object  than  herself.  Mind  you,  I'm  far 
from  saying  that  if  you  married  a  poor  man  it  might 
not  be  for  love,  love  on  both  sides.  But  I'll  go  as  far  as 
this:  there's  no  poor  man  you  could  marry  for  whom, 
however  much  he  loved  you,  your  wealth  would  not 
be  an  overpowering  consideration.  The  very  change  it 
would  bring  into  the  daily  circumstances  of  his  life 
would  oblige  him  to  give  his  mind  to  it,  perhaps  more 
than  to  you.  I  must  keep  repeating,  dear,  that  that's  a 
point  which  weighs  with  me,  though  I  shouldn't  expect 
you  to  give  it  undue  importance." 

"I  don't  think  I  could,"  she  said,  with  a  wistful  smile. 

"All  right.  So  much  the  better.  Now  for  one  thing 
more.  Wiltshire  is  not  only  a  good  man,  and  a  rich 
man,  but  he's  a  man  of  very  high  rank.  He  can  give 
his  wife  one  of  the  best  positions  in  the  world,  as  the 
world  counts  positions." 

"I  thought  our  own  was  very  good  as  it  is." 

He  raised  himself  and  laughed. 

"You're  quite  right,"  he  returned.  "It  is  a  good 
position.  But  it's  rather  like  that  of  the  Bonapartes — 
good  as  long  as  you  can  keep  it.  It's  a  position  that 
depends  upon  a  strong  man,  and  requires  a  strong  man 
to  maintain  it.  And  I  want  my  little  daughter  to  have 
the  best  of  everything  without  the  hardship  of  the  strug- 
gle. If  you  were  a  boy,  I  should  feel  differently;  but 
as  it  is,  I  want  to  see  you  in  a  place  that  will  be  based  on 
something  broader  and  solider  than  the  mere  possession 

58 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

of  money.  I  want  you  to  be  where  criticism  and  accusa- 
tion can't  touch  you.  You've  never  known  to  what  an 
extent  I've  been  assailed  by  them — and  not  only  I,  but 
every  one  with  whom  I  have  had  much  to  do.  We've 
kept  you  out  of  it  as  far  as  possible,  but  we  couldn't  do 
so  always.  They've  struck  at  your  mother  and  George 
and  Laura,  and  even  at  my  friends.  Very  soon  they 
will  begin  to  strike  at  you,  simply  because  you  are  my 
child." 

"I  should  be  proud  of  it,"  she  declared,  throwing 
back  her  head  with  something  of  his  own  flashing  of 
the  eye. 

"You  wouldn't  be  proud  of  it  long.  The  press  of  our 
country  is  perfectly  pitiless  on  those  who  rise  an  inch 
above  the  general  mediocrity.  It  spares  no  feeling 
and  respects  no  sanctuary.  The  mere  fact  that  you  are 
Paul  Trafford's  daughter  will  make  you  a  target  to  that 
great  section  of  the  public  that  has  never  ceased  to 
pursue  me  with  the  most  relentless  hostility." 

"  But  what  could  they  say  against  me  ?" 

"Nothing  against  you,  darling — nothing  against  you. 
They  could  only  rifle  the  privacy  of  your  domestic  life, 
and  besmirch  you  with  a  hundred  vulgarities.  You 
might  not  perceive  it,  but  it  would  be  madness  to  me. 
It's  only  over  here  that  we  have  some  respite  from  that 
kind  of  thing,  and,  therefore,  it's  over  here  I  should  like 
to  see  you  find  a  refuge.  If  you  were  like  some  women 
— like  Laura,  for  instance — I  mightn't  hesitate  to  ex- 
pose you  to  it;  but,  being  what  you  are,  I  should  like  to 
see  you  so  far  removed  from  it  all  that  even  the  echo  of 

59 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

slanderous  curiosity  couldn't  reach  you.  There,"  he 
broke  off,  "I  think  I've  had  my  say." 

She  rose  from  her  place,  and  came  slowly  to  him, 
round  the  table. 

"Thank  you,  papa,"  she  said,  simply,  slipping  her 
arm  over  his  shoulder  and  bending  down  her  cheek 
against  his  brow.  "Whatever  I  do,  you'll  love  me  just 
the  same,  won't  you  ?" 

For  answer,  he  drew  her  slim  white  fingers  to  his  lips. 
It  vexed  her  that,  at  that  very  instant,  George's  words 
of  last  night  should  have  returned  to  her  memory  like 
the  refrain  of  some  hideous  song: 

"Your  father  was  obliged  at  last  to  club  her  down." 


CHAPTER  VI 

/"^OULDN'T  you  take  me  somewhere?"  Paula 
\^J  asked,  turning  with  a  smile  to  the  Duke  as  they 
pushed  back  their  chairs  after  lunch  at  Giro's.  "Laura 
and  George  are  going  to  Cap  Martin,  and  I  have  noth- 
ing to  do." 

"We  might  motor  over  to  Eze  and  see  Alice,"  he 
suggested. 

"No;  let's  walk  up  to  Monaco.  I've  never  been 
there,  and  you  know  you  promised  to  take  me." 

The  Duke  was  radiant — or  as  near  radiant  as  any 
one  could  be  with  so  little  power  of  facial  expression. 
As  they  traversed  the  Galerie  Charles  III.,  on  their 
way  out,  he  bumped  into  people  and  overturned  chairs, 
with  a  joy  in  walking  with  his  mistress  like  that  of  an 
affectionate  dog.  From  the  hotels  and  restaurants  the 
crowds  were  sauntering  towards  the  Casino,  and  there 
were  so  many  salutes  and  greetings  to  exchange  that 
only  the  most  broken  remarks  were  possible  till  they 
neared  the  sea-wall.  Paula  knew  they  offered  a  topic 
of  conversation  to  passers-by,  strangers  and  friends 
alike;  and  again  she  was  conscious  of  the  utterly  foolish 
wish  that  he  had  been  taller,  and  that  in  his  springlike 
attire  and  soft  gray  hat  he  had  less  the  air  of  a  pros- 

61 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

perous  grocer  on  the  stage.  If  she  had  not  known  that 
he  was  only  thirty-eight,  looking  it  up  for  herself  in 
Debrett,  she  would  certainly  have  put  him  down  as 
fifty.  She  blamed  herself  for  such  thoughts  as  these, 
when  she  knew,  as  well  as  her  father  did,  his  many 
sterling  virtues.  They  chatted  of  indifferent  things  as 
they  descended  towards  the  Condamine,  and  Paula 
wondered  how  he  would  turn  the  talk  into  the  channel 
he  preferred.  She  wondered  even  more  what  reply  she 
would  make  to  him  when  he  did. 

"Have  you  seen  your  friend  Mr.  Winship  to-day?" 
she  summoned  up  courage  to  ask,  as  they  ascended  the 
brick-paved  footway  that  leads  up  the  face  of  the  cliff 
to  the  old  town  of  Monaco. 

"Yes;  for  a  minute  this  morning.  He's  over  at  Eze, 
spending  the  day  at  Alice's." 

Paula  caught  herself  up  before  she  could  regret  not 
having  accepted  the  Duke's  suggestion  after  luncheon. 

"They  know  each  other  very  well,  I  think  you  said." 

"Oh,  veiy  well.  You  must  come  over  and  see  Alice's 
little  place  some  day,  too.  I  fancy  she's  only  been 
waiting  for  some  definite — " 

"Oh,  I'm  out  of  breath!"  Paula  exclaimed,  suddenly, 
turning  round.  "Do  let  us  wait  a  bit.  What  a 
glorious  view!" 

The  level  of  the  Condamine  lay  beneath  them  in  the 
foreground,  a  cluster  of  tawny,  yellow  houses  roofed  in 
ochre  red.  On  the  height  behind,  Monte  Carlo,  with 
its  hotels  and  villas,  terraced  one  above  another,  sloped 
steeply  down  towards  the  sea.  Still  farther  back,  shut- 

62 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

ting  in  the  horizon,  the  mountains  of  dull  brown  and 
olive  green  were  crowned  with  a  light,  glistening  January 
snow.  On  the  pale,  bottle-green  of  the  bay  the  Prince 
of  Monaco's  yacht  made  a  sharp  white  streak.  Gray 
green  on  the  sea  lay  the  long  stretch  of  Cap  Martin, 
covered  with  hoary  olive-woods  and  dotted  with  white 
villas.  Then,  on  and  on,  into  the  east,  followed  the 
successive  headlands  towards  Italy,  flecked  with  snow 
at  the  highest  points,  and  unchanged,  except  in  the 
number  of  their  clustering  towns,  since  the  days  when 
the  Phoenicians  toiled  along  in  their  high-beaked  tri- 
remes, on  their  way  towards  Cornwall  or  Marseilles. 

"It's  like  those  bits  of  landscape,"  Paula  said,  with  a 
timid  attempt  to  bring  the  conversation  back  to  the 
theme  she  had  started — "those  bits  of  landscape  which 
the  old  Italian  masters  show  you  through  a  window, 
behind  a  Last  Supper,  or  a — portrait." 

"Do  you  think  so?"  Wiltshire  argued,  in  his  literal 
way.  "Isn't  it  rather  that  the  old  painters  give  you 
a  glimpse  of  the  life  of  their  day  ? — a  line  of  hills,  a  vil- 
lage, a  castle,  a  religious  procession,  a  knight  riding  with 
his  hounds,  a  ploughman  working  in  the  fields.  This 
is  too  little  typical  for  what  they  wanted;  and  besides, 
it  isn't  the  life  that  has  grown  out  of  the  soil,  but  the  one 
which  idlers  from  other  lands  have  implanted  on  it." 

So  they  fell  to  discussing  Monte  Carlo,  and  Paula 
was  foiled  again.  She  sighed  softly  to  herself  as  they 
moved  on,  and,  after  passing  through  an  old  gray 
gateway  vaulted  with  yellow  arches,  came  up  into  the 
Place  du  Palais. 

63 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

On  the  left,  across  the  great  square,  stood  the  old 
town,  a  mass  of  mellow  red  and  orange.  The  palace, 
a  long,  simple  structure  with  battlemented  towers,  lay 
on  the  right.  The  Monagasque  sentries,  in  blue-and- 
red  uniforms,  and  sweeping,  picturesque,  blue  cloaks, 
had  the  air  of  stepping  through  some  romantic  play. 
In  the  background,  to  the  north  and  west,  the  Tete  du 
Chien  rose  like  a  majestic  couchant  mastiff  keeping 
watch  over  the  Principality.  Between  its  paws  Cap 
d'Ail,  with  its  terraces,  olive-trees,  and  red-roofed  villas, 
lay  like  a  plaything.  In  towards  the  shore  the  sea  re- 
flected all  the  shades  that  mingle  in  a  peacock's  breast, 
while  farther  away,  towards  Spain  and  Africa,  it  deep- 
ened into  Homeric  wine-dark  violet. 

"How  wonderful!"  Paula  murmured,  just  above  her 
breath.  "This  air!  This  immensity!" 

She  moved  a  step  or  two  in  advance,  as  though  eager 
to  cross  the  level  Place  and  reach  some  spot  where  she 
could  best  command  the  whole  sea-line  of  the  hills, 
from  the  distant  east  to  the  distant  west,  from  the  blue 
vagueness  of  Piedmont,  past  San  Remo,past  Bordighera, 
past  Mentone,  past  Cap  Martin,  past  Monaco,  past 
Nice,  past  Cannes,  on  into  the  golden  haze  that  hung 
above  Provence.  When  she  stood  still,  at  the  western 
edge  of  the  terrace,  the  Duke  came  to  her  side  and  ex- 
plained where  the  different  points  of  interest  lay. 

"This  is  what  we  come  to  Monte  Carlo  for,"  he  said. 
"It  isn't  to  be  in  the  tide  of  fashion;  it's  because  nature 
seems  to  have  chosen  the  Principality  of  Monaco  as  the 
single  point  of  vantage  from  which  to  behold  all  rter 

64 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

beauties  in  one  glance.     We  soon  tire  of  Monte  Carlo, 
but  this — " 

\Vith  a  gesture  that  was  not  without  dignity,  he  in- 
dicated the  vast  panorama  of  sea  and  sky,  of  headland 
and  town,  of  blossoming  gardens  and  snows  on  the 
hills.  Paula  thought  she  saw  another  far-off  opening, 
and  carefully  pointed  her  remarks  towards  it. 

"How  much  you  enjoy  beauty — I  mean  beauty  for 
its  own  sake.  There  are  so  few  people  who  do.  Now, 
I  take  only  a  second-hand  interest  in  it.  I  like  to  have 
seen  Egypt  or  Switzerland  or  California,  in  order  to  be 
able  to  follow  with  some  intelligence  what  others  say 
about  them.  But  with  you  it's  different.  So  it  is  with 
your  sister — or  it  seemed  to  me  so  the  few  times  I've 
seen  her." 

"Oh,  Alice  is  all  right.  She  really  knows  about  it, 
and  I  don't.  She  lives  for  art  and  artists." 

"And  I'm  sure  she  does  a  lot  of  good.  I  thought 
what  you  said  about  her  last  night  was  so  charming — 
I  mean  about  her  taking  that  poor  blind  lady,  Mrs. 
Winship,  to  stay  with  you  at  Edenbridge." 

"Oh,  you'll  like  Alice  when  you  know  her  well. 
She's  got  her  queer  ways,  like  any  other  old  maid  with 
ten  thousand  a  year,  but  her  heart  is  sound." 

"Tell  me  about  them — about  the  Winships." 

He  turned  to  her  with  a  faint  smile. 

"Haven't  we  something  else  to  talk  of  first  ?" 

"No,  not  first — afterwards.  Couldn't  we  go  some- 
where— out  of  the  sun — and  sit  down  ?" 

"We  should  be  likely  to  find  seats  over  there." 
65 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

"I  wanted  to  ask  your  advice  about  something,"  she 
ventured,  timidly,  as  they  entered  the  wonderful  garden 
that  clambers  over  the  cliff,  and  goes  down,  down, 
down  till  it  almost  meets  the  sea. 

"Here's  a  good  place,  don't  you  think?" 

He  pointed  to  a  bench,  in  a  nook  formed  by  giant 
cacti  of  every  sinister  shape,  massed  in  with  pink  and 
red  geraniums  growing  like  tall  shrubs.  Overhead  there 
was  a  shade  of  cedar,  cypress,  and  pine,  while  far  below 
the  blue-green  sea  broke  with  a  monotonous  rumble. 

"My  advice  ?"  he  questioned,  as  they  sat  down. 

"You're  such  a  good  friend,"  she  murmured,  trem- 
ulously. "I'm  in  a  great  deal  of  perplexity." 

"Is  it  about  me?" 

"Partly;  but  it  isn't  only  that." 

"You  know  that  I  should  never  want  to  bring  the 
shadow  of  a  care  upon  you — not  even  if  it  was  to  give 
me  what  I  want  so  much.  You're  sure  of  that,  aren't 
you  ?" 

"That's  why  I  turn  to  you,"  she  said,  simply. 
"There's  no  one  else  in  the  world  I  could  trust  in  the 
same  way." 

"And  you'll  never  regret  having  given  me  your  con- 
fidence, however  full  it  may  be.  I  know  I'm  not  much 
to  look  at,  but  at  least  I  can  offer  you  devotion  and 
truth  to  the  uttermost — to  the  uttermost." 

"I  want  you  to  tell  me  about  the  Winships,"  she  be- 
gan again,  looking  down  at  the  tip  of  her  parasol,  with 
which  she  traced  aimless  lines  in  the  sand.  "How  did 
you  come  to  know  them  ?" 

66 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Oh,  it  was  a  long  time  ago — let  me  see — ten,  eleven, 
twelve — yes,  it  must  be  quite  fifteen  years  ago.  After 
my  mother  died  and  Alice  was  free,  she  went  to  Paris 
for  a  year  or  two  to  study  art.  In  the  atelier  where  she 
worked  she  fell  in  with  Marah  Winship." 

"Is  that  the  sister  of  the  man  I  saw  last  night  ?" 

"Yes,  an  older  sister — a  good  deal  older.  She  must 
be  somewhere  about  Alice's  age,  not  far  off  fifty." 

"And  does  she  paint,  too?" 

"Yes,  poor  thing." 

"Why  do  you  say  poor  thing?" 

"Because  she's  had  such  a  hard  life.  She  had  only 
the  smallest  kind  of  talent,  if  she  had  any  at  all,  and  yet 
she  made  herself  a  painter  by  sheer  determination  and 
pluck.  I've  heard  Alice  say  that,  in  the  atelier,  they 
used  to  think  she  couldn't  possibly  succeed,  and  yet  she 
did — in  a  measure.  'I  had  to  succeed,'  she  has  told  me 
herself — but  that  was  afterwards,  when  Alice  used  to 
have  them  at  Edenbridge." 

"Why  had  she  to  succeed  ?" 

"You  see,  their  father  was  dead,  and  they  had  lost 
all  their  money.  There  was  a  mother  to  be  taken  care 
of — a  splendid,  majestic  creature,  when  first  I  knew 
them,  but  already  growing  blind.  Then  there  was 
this  brother — " 

"But  he's  a  man." 

"I'm  speaking  of  fifteen  years  ago.  He  was  only  a 
lad  then.  The  sister  thought  he  had  it  in  him  to  be- 
come one  of  the  great  portrait-painters  of  the  day,  and 
so  she  brought  him  to  Paris  to  give  him  the  best  chance. 

6? 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

By  Jove!  she's  been  a  plucky  one!  I've  never  seen 
anything  like  it.  She  has  not  only  worked  like  a  slave, 
but  she's  done  the  impossible.  She's  turned  herself 
into  what  nature  never  meant  her  to  become,  and  she's 
made  a  living  for  them  all — a  poor  living,  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted, and  one  of  great  privation,  but  a  living  all  the 
same,  and  somehow  they've  managed  to  pull  through." 

"Do  you  know  why  they've  been  so  poor?" 

It  was  more  the  tone  than  the  question  that  aston- 
ished Wiltshire. 

"No,"  he  replied,  rather  blankly. 

"It's  because  we  took  their  money  and  their  mines, 
and  everything  they  had,  away  from  them." 

"We?    Who?" 

"  Our  family — my  father.  Oh,  Duke,  I  didn't  know 
anything  about  it  till  last  night,  and  to-day  I  feel  as  if 
we  were  a  band  of  robbers.  When  I  think  of  the  way 
we've  lived,  and  the  way  they've  lived — " 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  he  said,  soothingly,  as  she  broke 
off,  choking. 

"I  don't  think  I  can.  There's  so  little  to  tell — and 
yet  so  much.  It's  all  so  dreadful — and  it's — it's  my 
father,  Duke." 

"For  that  very  reason  you  shouldn't  be  in  a  hurry 
to  judge — " 

"I  know,  but  I  can't  help  it.  It's  like  a  kind  of 
jealousy  in  me — a  jealousy  for  his  honor,  that  I  thought 
so  far  above  attack." 

The  Duke's  mouth  twitched  with  a  queer,  significant 
expression,  while  a  look  of  pity  stole  into  his  dull  eyes. 

68 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"This  Miss  Winship's  father  was  my  father's  com- 
petitor, and  my  father  crushed  him  and  ruined  him 
and  killed  him.  He  died  in  the  middle  of  all  sorts  of 
lawsuits,  and  then  my  father  ruined  the  widow — the 
poor  lady,  who,  you  say,  is  blind-  Everything  they 
possessed  came  to  us — I  can't  exactly  tell  you  how,  but 
my  cousin  George  would  explain  it  if  you  asked  him." 

"I  can  guess." 

"Yes,  because  you  understand  about  business.  But 
it's  all  so  cruel,  Duke.  I  spend  a  great  deal  of  money, 
but  I  can't  spend  it  fast  enough.  I  don't  know  what 
to  buy  that  I  haven't  bought  over  and  over  again,  and 
yet  the  money  heaps  itself  up  in  spite  of  me.  And  now, 
when  you  tell  me  of  that  poor  Marah,  working  against 
the  grain,  trying  to  achieve  the  impossible,  and  doing 
it—" 

Her  tone  rose,  with  a  sharp,  nervous  inflection,  till 
she  found  herself  unable  to  go  on. 

"There's  one  thing  we  must  never  forget,"  Wiltshire 
said,  kindly.  "We're  the  inheritors  of  the  past;  we're 
not  the  creators  of  it.  All  sorts  of  complicated  situa- 
tions come  down  to  us,  and  in  them  we  can  only  grope 
our  way.  You  inherit  the  situation  your  father  made 
for  you,  and  Mr.  Winship  inherits  that  which  his  father 
made  for  him.  You  and  I  know  too  little  to  judge 
either  side.  We're  too  remote  from  all  the  conditions 
to  apportion  out  the  real  rights  and  wrongs — " 

"And  therefore,"  Paula  interrupted,  somewhat  bit- 
terly, "we  should  settle  down  complacently  to  accept 
things  as  they  are." 

69 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Not  quite  that.  But  if  we  can't  accept  things  as 
they  are,  we  mustn't  try  to  force  them  into  being  what 
they  can't  become.  We  can  only  learn  by  degrees  how 
to  adjust  what's  wrong — " 

"  But  you  can  adjust  anything  with  money — that  is, 
if  you  have  enough." 

"Not  everything,  unhappily." 

"But  I  could  adjust  this." 

"You  mean  that  you  could  give  the  Winships  money  ? 
Oh  no,  you  couldn't." 

"I  don't  mean  that  I  could  give  them  alms,  or  do 
anything  with  condescension.  But  couldn't  I  give  them 
a  great  deal — as  much  as  they  ever  lost — more  than 
that  ?  I  have  a  great  deal  of  money  of  my  own — I 
don't  know  how  much — but  it  must  be  a  large  sum 
— and  I'd  give  it  all  to  them.  You  could  help  me. 
You  know  them,  and  I  could  do  it  through  you,  if 
you  only  would — " 

"Softly,  softly.  You  couldn't  do  anything  of  that 
sort.  They  wouldn't  take  it.  Things  aren't  managed 
so  directly  as  that  in  this  complicated  world.  They'd 
be  offended,  you  know.  They  wouldn't  listen  to 
me—" 

"Oh  yes,  they  would.  Everybody  listens  when  it's 
a  question  of  getting  money.  You'd  beg  it  as  a  favor. 
You'd  say  it  was  not  in  pity  for  them,  but  in  kindness 
to  me.  You'd  put  it  that  way.  And  they'd  take  it. 
I  know  they  would.  I've  never  seen  any  one  refuse 
money— if  it  was  enough.  Oh,  Duke,  do!" 

She  ended  abruptly,  with  a  quaver  in  her  voice,  like 
70 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

a  little  wail.  Wiltshire  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  took 
two  or  three  turns  up  and  down  the  gravel-path.  Re- 
turning, he  resumed  his  seat  beside  her. 

"You  mustn't  do  anything  rash  in  the  matter,"  he 
said,  gently.  "You  mustn't  have  the  air  of  seeming  to 
judge  your  father." 

"I  don't,"  she  answered,  quickly.  "I  know  he  didn't 
do  anything  wrong.  I  should  never  admit  otherwise. 
Only—" 

She  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  and  Wiltshire,  lean- 
ing towards  her,  laid  his  hand  on  hers. 

"Dear  Paula,"  he  whispered,  "couldn't  we  let  it  be, 
until  you  and  I  could  manage  it  together  ?" 

She  did  not  withdraw  her  hand  from  his  touch,  but 
the  eyes  she  lifted  towards  him  were  full  of  the  mute 
appeal  of  an  animal  begging  to  be  let  off. 

"You've  never  answered  my  question  —  my  great 
question,"  he  went  on,  tenderly. 

"  I've  been  trying  to,"  she  managed  to  say. 

"And  you  don't  find  it  easy?" 

She  shook  her  head,  letting  her  eyes  fall  again. 

"  But  you've  been  making  the  effort  ?" 

"Yes,"  she  murmured,  just  audibly. 

"  And  it's  been  a  great  effort  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  So  great,  in  fact,  that  you  don't  feel  the  strength  to 
make  it." 

"I'm  trying  to,"  she  said,  hurriedly.     "I  want  to." 

"You  want  to  ?     In  what  way  ?" 

Again  she  lifted  her  appealing  eyes  to  him. 

71 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"I — I — want  to  please  father,"  she  stammered,  "and 
make  you  happy,  and — and — " 

"And  sacrifice  yourself,"  he  added. 

"It  wouldn't  be  a  sacrifice  if  I  could  do  those  two 
things,"  she  stammered  on. 

"That  is,"  he  corrected,  "not  so  great  a  sacrifice  but 
that  you  could  make  it." 

She  nodded  her  assent.  A  few  seconds  passed  in 
silence,  when  Wiltshire  slowly  withdrew  his  hand  and 
sat  erect. 

"I've  hurt  you,"  Paula  cried,  turning  sharply  towards 
him.  "That  isn't  what  I  meant  to  say.  You  haven't 
understood  me.  I'm  ready  to  be  your  wife,  if  it  will 
make  you  happy.  Indeed,  I'm  ready.  You  don't 
know  how  I  honor  you,  how  good  I  think  you,  how — " 

"Oh  yes,  I  do,"  he  broke  in,  with  a  wan  smile.  "I 
only  thought  that  perhaps  it  might  be  possible,  after  all, 
for  a  woman  to  do  a  little  more  than  honor  me,  and 
think  me — " 

"I'm  sure  it  is,"  Paula  insisted,  warmly.  "Let  me 
try,  let  me — " 

"Oh,  but  you  have  tried.  And  such  things  as  that 
don't  come  from  trying.  They  come  spontaneously, 
or  not  at  all.  I'm  not  hurt.  I  know  you  far  too  well 
to  think  you  would  hurt  anything  that  breathes — and 
still  less  me.  But  I'll  tell  you  something.  We've  al- 
ways been  good  friends,  haven't  we — that  is,  for  three 
or  four  years  past  ?" 

"Very." 

"And  I've  rather  spoiled  things  between  us  by  bring- 
72 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

ing  up  this  subject,  which,  I  might  have  known  from 
the  first,  was  impossible.  Suppose  we  go  back  to  what 
we  were  before.  Suppose  we  blot  all  this  out,  as  if  it 
had  never  happened.  Wouldn't  that  be  a  relief  to 
you  ?" 

"Yes,"  she  said,  in  an  unsteady  voice. 

"Then  we'll  do  it.  I  won't  undertake  to  give  up 
hoping.  No  one  could  to  whom  you  hadn't  absolutely 
said  no.  But  I  sha'n't  bother  you  with  my  hopes,  and 
if,  in  the  end,  I  have  to  bury  them — why,  then,  we'll 
see." 

"  How  good  you  are!"  Paula  said,  softly,  two  big 
tears  falling  in  spite  of  her  efforts  to  keep  them 
back. 

"Don't  say  that,"  he  protested.  "You  speak  of 
goodness  only  because  you  don't  know — love.  But 
you're  tired,"  he  added,  rising.  "Wouldn't  you  like 
me  to  take  you  home  ?  I  dare  say  we  shall  find  a  fiacre 
in  the  Place  that  will  take  us  down  by  the  carriage- 
road." 

Late  that  evening,  when  Paul  Trafford  kissed  his 
daughter  to  say  good-night,  she  twined  her  arm  over 
his  shoulder  and  detained  him. 

"I've  seen  the  Duke,"  she  whispered,  "and  he 
wouldn't  have  me." 

"He — "  Traffbrd  began,  in  a  puzzled  voice. 

"He  thought  it  was  a  sacrifice  on  my  part,"  she  ex- 
plained, looking  up  at  him  with  glowing  eyes,  "and  he 
wouldn't  let  me  make  it.  It's  all  over." 

6  73 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"And  would  it  have  been  a  —  sacrifice?"  he  de- 
manded, with  shaggy  brows  drawn  together. 

"Not  if  I  could  have  pleased  you." 

His  face  cleared  as  he  bent  low  and  kissed  her  again. 

"Then  I  shall  only  keep  my  little  girl  the  longer," 
was  all  he  said. 


CHAPTER  VII 

"I'M  going  to  do  it,  Laura,"  Paula  whispered,  as 
1  they  approached  the  luncheon  -  table.  "I  mean 
the  portrait.  I've  got  his  address,  and  I'm  going  this 
afternoon." 

There  was  no  time  to  say  more,  for  Mrs.  Trafford 
entered  the  room,  followed  by  George  Trafford  and 
little  Paul. 

There  had  been  several  reasons  for  their  return  to 
Paris  in  the  early  days  of  February.  The  protracted 
absence  of  Mr.  Trafford  in  Germany  and  Russia  was 
the  one  they  spoke  of  openly.  The  Duke's  silent  de- 
parture from  Monte  Carlo,  taking  the  spirit  out  of  their 
little  band,  was  a  subject  they  mentioned  to  one  another 
only  when  Paula  was  not  there.  The  sudden  anxiety 
of  Mrs.  Trafford  about  her  own  health,  and  her  haste 
to  see  a  doctor  in  Paris,  was  a  matter  that  they  dared 
not  discuss  at  all. 

"Where's  everybody  going  this  afternoon?"  Mrs. 
Trafford  demanded  a  half-hour  later,  with  the  brisk- 
ness which  her  courage  enabled  her  to  maintain. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Aunt  Trafford?"  Laura  in- 
quired, warily. 

"Oh,  I've  got  a  lot  of  things  to  do.    First,  I  have  the 

75 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

committee  for  the  Bazar  de  la  Charite;  the  Princesse  de 
Friedland  counts  on  me  absolutely  this  year.  Then 
I  have  to  go  to  a  meeting  at  the  American  Art-Students' 
Home.  Then  I  must  drop  in  at  the  Duchesse  de 
Dodoville's  gouter.  By-the-way,  I  could  come  back 
and  take  you  there,  Laura.  You'll  want  some  tea." 

"I  simply  must  go  to  the  Bon  Marche,"  Mrs.  George 
Traffbrd  declared.  "I  have  all  sorts  of  things  to  buy 
for  Paul.  I'll  get  my  tea  at  Rumpelmeyer's  or  Colom- 
bin's  on  the  way  back." 

"Then  couldn't  you  come,  Paula  ?"  Mrs.  Traffbrd 
continued.  "I  hate  going  into  crowded  rooms  alone — 
especially  in  French  houses;  and  I  speak  so  badly." 

Paula  knew  the  moment  had  come,  and  nerved  her- 
self to  reply  in  her  usual  tone. 

"I  can't  go,  mother,  dear,"  she  said,  as  calmly  as  she 
could.  "I've  got  to  see  about  sittings  for  a  portrait  I'm 
going  to  have  painted." 

It  seemed  to  Paula  as  if  her  commonplace  words 
fell  with  curious  solemnity  on  the  stillness  of  the  room. 
She  knew  that,  in  spite  of  herself,  she  was  coloring. 

George  Trafford  took  his  cigar  from  his  lips  and 
looked  round  at  her  over  his  shoulder. 

"You  seem  to  be  lost  in  admiration  of  yourself, 
Paula,"  he  observed.  "You  had  'a  portrait  last  year 
by  Carolus  Duran,  and  one  by  Chartran  the  year  before." 

"I  don't  like  either  of  them,"  she  returned,  her  eyes 
searching  the  depths  of  her  empty  coffee-cup. 

"And  yet  they  weren't  considered  to  be  what  you'd 
call  unfair  to  the  original,"  he  went  on. 

76 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know  where  you'll  hang  it,"  Mrs. 
Traffbrd  complained,  looking  round  the  splendid  room. 
"If  you  put  another  item  on  the  walls  of  this  house  we'll 
smother." 

"I  was  thinking  of  making  it  a  present  to  George." 

"Oh,  don't  put  the  responsibility  of  stowing  it  away 
on  me,"  Trafford  cried.  "Laura  and  I  have  already 
more  stuff  than  we  can  handle." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,  George,  dear,"  Laura 
argued.  "It  might  be  nice  in  years  to  come  for  Paul. 
We've  got  so  little  in  the  way  of  ancestral  things  to 
leave  him.  And  they  say  that  in  forty  or  fifty  years 
from  now — that  would  be  easily  within  Paul's  lifetime 
— some  of  the  great  portrait-painters  of  the  present  day 
will  have  become  what  Romney  and  Gainsborough  are 
for  us." 

"It's  a  good  while  to  look  ahead  to,"  Traffbrd  laugh- 
ed. "But  I  suppose  if  ancestors  hadn't  had  foresight 
descendants  wouldn't  have  privileges.  Who's  your 
man,  Paula  ?  Give  us  an  American  this  time,  won't 
you  ?  Say  Sargent,  or  some  of  those  fellows." 

"He  is  an  American,"  Paula  replied,  "but  he  isn't 
Sargent.  He's  a  new  painter.  I  believe  he  has  re- 
markable talent.  We  spoke  of  him  one  night  at 
Monte  Carlo.  You  told  me  about  him,  George.  His 
name  is  Winship." 

Mrs.  Trafford  gave  a  little  scream  and  let  her  coffee- 
cup  fall  with  a  crash  on  the  floor. 

"Paula  Traffbrd,"  she  cried,  "if  you  want  to  kill  me, 
do  it  now;  don't  let  it  be  by  inches." 

77 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"You  do  beat  everything,  Paula,"  her  cousin  ob- 
served, grimly,  "for  getting  things  on  the  brain.  I'll 
bet  fifty  cents  that  you've  been  turning  those  Winships 
over  in  your  head  ever  since  the  subject  came  up,  two 
or  three  weeks  ago." 

"Lady  Alice  knows  them,"  Paula  stammered,  in 
excuse.  "She  says  he's  wonderful — and  he  isn't  rec- 
ognized— and  his  mother  is  blind  —  and  they're  so 
poor — and — " 

"Goodness  knows,"  Mrs.  Trafford  expostulated, 
"there  are  plenty  of  poor  people  in  the  world  without 
hunting  up  your  own  father's  enemies.  I  don't  believe 
the  portrait  is  anything  but  a  pretext  for — " 

"Even  so,  Aunt  Traffbrd,  dear,"  Mrs.  George  in- 
terrupted, in  her  reasonable  tone,  "don't  you  think 
it's  just  what  Uncle  Trafford  would  like  ?  Haven't 
you  known  him  time  and  time  again  turn  round  on  the 
beaten  and  the  bitter  and  the  sore  and  hold  out  the 
helping  hand  to  them  ?  Is  there  any  one  who  knows 
better  than  he  how  to  take  the  sting  from  hostility  ? 
And  isn't  it  part  of  the  responsibility  of  wealth —  ?" 

"Oh,  you  needn't  tell  me!"  Mrs.  Trafford  gasped, 
impatiently.  She  disliked  so  much  having  the  higher 
way  pointed  out  to  her  by  Mrs.  George  that  she  often 
hurried  in  advance  to  take  it.  "  I  know  better  than  any 
one  what  he  is,  and  the  sort  of  example  he  sets  us.  If 
to  return  good  for  evil  is  the  motto  of  his  life,  it  may  well 
be  that  of  ours.  Paula,  my  child,"  she  added,  with  a 
quick  change  of  front,  "if  it  be  your  will  to  help  these 
people,  do  it.  I  withdraw  all  objection.  If  you  like, 

73 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

I'll  pay  for  the  portrait.  I  believe  it  would  please  your 
father,  though  I  think  we'd  better  not  say  anything 
about  it.  Yes,  I  will  pay  for  it.  I  don't  care  what  it 
costs." 

"Thank  you,  mother,  dear,"  Paula  said,  rising,  eager 
to  escape,  now  that  her  point  was  gained.  "I'd  rather 
pay  for  it  myself." 

"All  I  beg  of  you,"  Mrs.  Trafford  cried,  as  Paula 
left  the  room,  "is  not  to  bring  the  young  man  here." 

"  But  where  can  I  have  my  sittings  ?"  Paula  ques- 
tioned, from  the  doorway. 

"Where  you  like.  Have  them  in  the  Louvre,  or  in 
Notre  Dame,  or  anywhere  else  you  please;  but  don't 
bring  the  young  man  here.  I  should  faint  if  I  saw  him. 
Take  a  maid  with  you,  take  two  maids,  take  ten  maids 
if  you  will,  but  don't — bring — the  young — man  here." 

"Do  you  think  that's  wise?"  Trafford  questioned; 
but  Paula  was  already  out  of  hearing. 

Half  an  hour  later  her  coupe  turned  from  the  Rue 
Mazarine  into  the  narrow  Passage  de  la  Nativite  and 
stopped  before  an  ancient,  fortress-like  gate.  Traces 
of  Renaissance  sculpture  were  visible  on  the  battered 
stone,  while  in  a  niche  over  the  portal  stood  a  crowned 
but  time-worn  statue  of  the  Virgin  and  Child.  When 
the  footman  clanged  the  gong  a  wrinkled  old  woman 
opened  a  small  door  cautiously.  Paula  descended  and 
asked  the  way  to  Mr.  Winship's  studio. 

A  minute  afterwards  she  found  herself  in  a  spacious 
court-yard,  paved  with  flat  stone,  which  time  had 
forced  into  various  levels,  the  interstices  being  filled 

79 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

here  and  there  with  tufts  of  grass.  Low,  weather- 
worn gray  buildings  in  the  Renaissance  style  surround- 
ed the  court-yard  on  three  sides.  In  the  centre  of  the 
space  the  stone  basin  of  a  long-disused  fountain  was 
gradually  crumbling  away,  throwing  slightly  out  of  the 
perpendicular  the  elaborate  wrought-iron  tracery  which 
rose  above  it,  surmounted  by  a  cross.  The  place  was 
evidently  an  old  convent,  violated  probably  at  the  Revo- 
lution, and  since  then  become  one  of  those  spots,  more 
common  in  Paris  than  elsewhere,  in  which  poverty  can 
take  refuge  and  still  keep  some  sense  of  dignity.  To 
Paula,  picking  her  way  across  the  court  towards  the 
entrance  the  concierge  had  pointed  out,  everything 
about  her  seemed  oppressively  ancient.  It  was  pict- 
uresque enough;  in  a  mournful  way  it  was  even  stately; 
but  to  think  of  any  one  actually  living  there  made  her 
shudder.  The  Winships  themselves  were  well  content 
to  have  discovered,  in  the  heart  of  the  city,  so  charming 
a  retreat,  while  Paula  could  think  only  of  outcasts  seek- 
ing shelter  among  broken,  empty  tombs. 

Now  that  she  was  here,  she  had  none  of  the  ner- 
vousness or  fluttering  of  the  heart  from  which  she  had 
often  suffered  in  thinking  the  matter  over.  On  the 
contrary,  in  her  velvet  and  sables  she  felt  herself  im- 
posing. The  ease  with  which  the  conversation  at  the 
luncheon-table  had  passed  off  gave  to  the  undertaking 
an  air  of  being  a  matter  of  course.  Besides,  after  all, 
there  was  no  tremendous  difficulty  to  overcome.  She 
would  have  such  a  conversation  as  she  had  held  at 
other  times  with  M.  Chartran  or  M.  Carolus  Duran, 

80 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

and  would  come  away.  On  the  question  of  price  she 
would,  naturally,  have  to  surprise  the  young  artist; 
but  such  surprises  were  generally  borne  by  their 
recipients  with  good  grace.  For  everything  else  she 
counted  on  her  own  dignity,  tact,  and  knowledge  of  the 
world. 

The  entry  was  so  dark,  and  the  slippery  stairs  were 
so  steep,  that  on  the  landing  Paula  waited  for  a  minute 
beside  a  window  to  take  breath.  The  view  here  was 
less  severe  than  that  below.  In  the  foreground,  just 
beyond  the  court,  there  were  gardens — such  friendly, 
ancient,  unexpected  gardens,  hidden  from  the  streets, 
as  one  finds  everywhere  in  Paris,  and  nowhere  else  in 
the  world.  Farther  off  rose  the  venerable  tower 
of  St.-Germain-des-Pres;  farther  off  still,  the  square 
of  the  Odeon  displayed  its  simple  lines,  while,  as 
culminating  -  point  to  the  prospect,  the  columned 
dome  of  the  Pantheon  lifted  itself  into  the  winter 
air. 

As  Paula  gazed  outward  she  rehearsed  once  more 
the  first  few  phrases  she  should  use  to  Winship.  Sud- 
denly she  seemed  to  hear  music — the  faint  tinkling  of 
an  air  with  which  she  was  familiar.  When  she  turned 
from  the  window  to  go  up  the  second  flight  of  stairs 
the  sounds  became  more  distinct. 

Presently  she  heard  a  voice  singing — a  woman  s 
voice,  sweet  and  in  tune,  but  thin  and  worn,  like  the 
tone  of  the  old  piano  on  which  the  singer  was  playing 
her  accompaniment.  Once  on  the  landing,  Paula 
could  hear  the  words  quite  plainly: 

81 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"O'er  moor  and  fen,  o'er  crag  and  torrent,  till 

The  night  is  gone. 

And  with  the  morn  those  angel  faces  smile 
Which  I  have  loved  long  since,  and  lost  awhile." 

There  was  an  Amen,  just  as  they  sing  in  churches, 
and  then  the  tinkling  music  ceased.  Paula  took  a 
step  forward  towards  the  closed  door  through  which 
the  sounds  had  proceeded.  It  was  that  indicated  to 
her  by  the  concierge,  but  she  hoped  to  find  herself  mis- 
taken. While  she  was  ready  to  deal  with  Winship  him- 
self, she  had  not  counted  on  finding  herself  face  to  face 
with  the  women  of  his  family.  But  no!  she  was  not 
mistaken.  It  was  the  door.  The  card  on  it  bore  the 
name  "Winship."  She  was  half  inclined  to  turn  away, 
when  a  high-pitched,  quavering  voice  arrested  her 
attention. 

"Thank  you,  Marah,  dear.  That's  very  nice — very 
comforting." 

The  enunciation  had  that  slow,  emphatic  distinctness 
which  belongs  to  aged  persons  of  strong  will.  Paula 
was  about  to  ring,  when  the  voice  began  again,  re- 
citing in  a  loud,  clear,  trembling  monotone : 

"  Lead,  kindly  Light,  amid  the  encircling  gloom, 

Lead  Thou  me  on  ; 
The  night  is  dark  and  I  am  far  from  home, 

Lead  Thou  me  on. 

Keep  Thou  my  feet ;    I  do  not  ask  to  see 
The  distant  scene  j  one  step  enough  for  me." 

"  One  step  enough  for  me — one  step  enough  for  me," 
the  voice  repeated,  softly,  like  an  echo,  and  Paula  sum- 
moned up  force  to  ring. 

82 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

There  was  a  second  or  two  of  bustling  movement 
within,  and  then  the  door  was  opened. 

For  a  brief  instant  Paula  hesitated,  in  surprise.  She 
had  expected  a  servant  of  some  sort,  and  held  her  card, 
half-drawn  from  her  card-case,  in  her  hand.  Before 
her  she  saw  a  little,  gray-haired  lady,  with  snapping 
black  eyes  and  a  face  that  might  have  betokened  any 
of  the  complex  shades  from  cynical  kindliness  to  jest- 
ing severity.  Everything  about  her  was  austerely  sim- 
ple, from  the  parting  of  her  gray  hair  to  the  falling  of 
her  black  gown,  covered  up,  just  now,  with  a  huge 
white  apron  like  a  pinafore.  Paula  had  a  minute  of 
feeling  herself  very  tall  and  very  much  overdressed. 

"Is  Mr.  Winship  at  home  ?"  she  managed  to  ask  at 
last. 

"If  you'll  be  good  enough  to  come  in,  I'll  see." 
•    The  voice  was  hard,  the  utterance  crisp,  and  the 
smile  that  accompanied  the  words  had  the  bright  flash 
of  winter  sunlight. 

Marah  Winship  led  the  way  in,  with  a  quick,  awkward 
motion  that  bespoke  a  nature  too  busy  to  think  of  grace. 
Paula  followed,  and  after  a  step  or  two  stood  still, 
with  another  slight  shock  of  surprise. 

It  was  not  like  going  into  any  other  house  she  had 
ever  visited.  There  was  no  hallway  or  anteroom  or 
vestibule.  On  crossing  the  threshold  she  passed  at 
once  into  the  full  domestic  life  of  the  family.  She  had 
entered  an  immense,  barnlike  apartment,  which  was 
evidently  studio  and  living-room  in  one.  The  floor 
was  bare,  except  for  a  few  of  the  commoner  sorts  of 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

Oriental  rugs.  The  walls  were  hung  with  an  ordinary 
dark-red  stuff  which  formed  a  background  for  the  un- 
framed  sketches — portraits,  landscapes,  and  architect- 
ural drawings — pinned  up  here  and  there  against  it. 
At  the  far  end  of  the  room  there  was  an  easel  on  which 
the  work  was  covered  up  with  a  loosely  thrown  cloth. 
A  couple  of  lay-figures  stood  in  grotesque  attitudes  in  a 
corner,  while  near  them  was  an  open  grand-piano  of 
old-fashioned  make.  It  was  only  vaguely  that  Paula 
took  these  details  in,  for  after  the  first  glance  her  eyes 
were  drawn  to  a  tall  figure  seated  quite  near  her,  in  a 
high,  thronelike  chair. 

Paula  knew  at  once  that  this  was  the  woman  who  had 
done  battle  with  her  father,  until  he  had  been  obliged 
"to  club  her  down."  The  immediate  impression  was 
that  of  a  person  sitting  very  still  and  erect,  her  feet 
planted  firmly  on  a  red  cushion,  and  a  large  volume — 
evidently  a  Bible — in  raised  letters,  open  on  her  knees. 
Over  the  white  hair  a  lace  scarf,  of  beautiful  design, 
came  to  a  point  on  the  forehead,  and  fell  in  lappets  to 
the  shoulders.  The  severity  of  the  black  gown  was  re- 
lieved by  a  fichu  of  soft  white  stuff,  fastened  on  the 
breast  with  a  large,  old-fashioned  brooch  set  with 
emeralds.  Clearly,  the  face  had  been  handsome  once, 
and  even  haughty;  but  now  all  that  had  been  passionate 
or  self-willed  in  it  was  subdued  by  time  and  sorrow  into 
sweetness.  There  was  no  color  there  at  all — only  the 
waxlike  transparency  of  the  aged.  As  Paula  entered, 
the  sightless  eyes  were  raised  towards  her,  as  if  with  one 
more  useless,  piteous  attempt  to  pierce  the  darkness. 

84 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Marah  Winship  had  allowed  Paula  to  stand  still  a 
moment  and  gaze.  It  was  one  of  her  rare  bits  of  pleas- 
ure— that  instant  when  a  stranger  beheld  her  mother 
for  the  first  time  and  betrayed  his  astonished  admira- 
tion. It  was  the  old  maid's  only  coquetry;  it  was  all 
that  remained  of  the  vivacity  and  pride  that  had  been 
hers  in  the  days  before  the  family  disasters.  When 
ruin  overtook  them,  she  gave  up  once  and  forever  all 
impossible  hopes  for  herself.  She  had  not  been  with- 
out a  young  woman's  love  of  happy  trifles;  nor  without 
a  pleasant  vague  anticipation  of  a  home,  with  children 
of  her  own;  nor  without  the  half-shy,  half-rapturous 
thought  that  if  a  certain  one  of  the  young  men  with 
whom  she  danced  during  the  winter  season  in  Boston 
ever  asked  her,  it  would  not  be  in  vain.  But  when  the 
great  financial  battle  was  fought  to  a  finish,  she  re- 
nounced everything  of  that  kind.  She  saw  her  life's 
work  before  her.  It  was,  first,  to  make  a  man  of  Roger, 
the  boy  who  was  so  much  younger  than  herself  as  to 
seem  less  like  a  brother  than  a  son;  then  it  was  to  shield 
from  the  crudest  winds  of  adversity  the  mother  who  had 
done  her  best  and  failed. 

She  crushed  out  her  own  longings  with  that  cynical 
suppression  of  regret  which  some  women  can  command, 
and  set  herself  to  her  task.  She  learned  the  meaning 
of  sacrifice,  privation,  penury,  failure,  and,  at  last,  of 
faint,  almost  pitiable,  success.  But  she  achieved  her 
purpose — she  made  a  man  of  Roger;  and  during  the 
long,  hard  years  Mrs.  Winship  never  knew  how  long 
and  hard  they  were.  Marah  protected  her  at  least  from 

85 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

that.  As  the  mother  grew  older  and  blinder,  it  became 
easier  to  deceive  her — easier  to  make  her  believe  there 
was  plenty  of  food  because  she  had  enough,  easier  to 
persuade  her  that  life  was  happy  because  she  knew 
only  smiles.  Out  of  the  wreck  of  their  pretty  things 
Marah  had  snatched  a  few  old  jewels,  a  few  odds  and 
ends  of  lace — not  much,  but  enough  to  keep  alive  in 
her  mother's  consciousness  the  conviction  that  she  was 
"still  a  lady."  Marah  was  satisfied  with  that,  as  far  as 
a  hungry,  unfed  heart  is  ever  satisfied.  The  day's 
work  was  always  lighter  if  some  one  pointed  to  her 
mother  and  whispered,  "Isn't  she  a  picture!" 

Paula  did  not  say  that,  but  she  was  conscious  of  an 
overwhelming  sentiment  of  pity.  It  was  not  only  pity, 
it  was  a  feeling  of  responsibility.  Everything  about  her 
was  to  her  eyes  so  poverty-stricken — while  she  was 
spending  the  money  which  would  have  provided  for 
this  helplessness  the  setting  to  which  it  was  entitled. 
During  the  second  or  two  that  had  passed  since  she  en- 
tered the  room,  her  mind  had  worked  faster  than  it 
had  ever  worked  before.  Wild  schemes  rose  con- 
fusedly in  her  heart,  and  it  was  almost  exultantly  that 
she  felt  it  in  her  power  to  change  all  this,  making  amends 
for  a  cruel  past  by  a  sudden  raining  down  of  hap- 
piness. Notwithstanding  her  sense  of  the  wrong  that 
had  been  done,  she  could  not  help  feeling,  as  she 
stood  in  the  vast,  bare  room,  a  little  like  a  fairy  god- 
mother. 

But  when  Marah  Winship  spoke,  Paula  was  recalled, 
of  necessity,  to  the  circumstances  of  the  moment. 

86 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"I  think  my  brother  is  in;  I  will  go  and  see.  May 
I  ask  what  name  I  ought  to  give  him  ?" 

"Miss  Trafford— Miss  Paula  Trafford." 

She  spoke  slowly  and  distinctly;  she  meant  also  to 
speak  reassuringly.  She  hoped  the  very  sound  of  the 
name  would  be  the  signal  that,  after  the  long  years,  the 
victors  were  coming  to  give  back  the  spoils  and  hold  out 
the  olive-branch  of  peace.  She  was  surprised  to  see 
Marah  start  and  grow  pale,  while  her  black  eyes  snapped 
with  a  sparkle  like  that  of  electricity. 

"I — I  don't  think  my  brother  can  be  in,"  she  re- 
turned, coldly. 

"I  want  very  much  to  see  him.  Won't  you  make 
sure  ?" 

Paula  spoke  in  the  gentle  tone  of  command  that 
came  from  her  sense  of  power.  Marah  Winship  had 
suffered  too  many  defeats  at  the  hands  of  wealth  to  dare 
to  disobey. 

"Mother,"  she  said,  turning  abruptly  to  the  figure 
in  the  thronelike  chair,  "this  is  Miss  Trafford — Miss 
Paula  Trafford.  She  has  come  to  see  Roger;  I'm 
going  to  look  for  him." 

She  sped  away,  leaving  Paula  alone,  and  face  to  face 
with  Mrs.  Winship. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  during  which  the 
blind  woman's  fingers  trembled  violently  over  the  raised 
letters  of  the  open  page.  The  lips  quivered  as  if  un- 
able to  frame  a  word. 

"Trafford!"  she  murmured  at  last.  "Did  my 
daughter  say  Trafford  ?" 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

"I'm  Paul  Trafford's  daughter,"  Paula  answered, 
firmly.  She  would  have  no  misunderstanding  or 
mistake. 

"I  know  the  name,"  Mrs.  Winship  said,  making  an 
effort  towards  self-control,  "but  I  haven't  heard  it  for 
many  years." 

"I'm  afraid  it  may  be  painful  to  you,"  Paula  felt  im- 
pelled to  say;  "but — " 

"It  used  to  be;  it  used  to  be.  But  oh!  my  dear, 
when  the  race  is  as  nearly  run  as  mine  is,  and  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  is  opening  before  your  eyes,  nothing  is 
very  painful  any  more." 

Paula  was  not  expecting  this.  She  moved  uneasily. 
The  sound  caught  Mrs.  Winship's  ear. 

"Come  nearer  to  me,  dear,"  she  quavered,  holding 
out  a  delicate  white  hand,  on  which  a  diamond  or  two 
still  twinkled.  "Come  here;  sit  down;  let  me  see  you." 

There  was  a  tall,  straight-backed  chair  beside  her. 
Paula  drew  it  nearer  to  the  blind  woman  and  sat 
down. 

"I  was  almost  afraid  to  come,"  she  began  to  mur- 
mur, but  Mrs.  Winship  interrupted  her. 

"You  needn't  be.  No  one  can  live  to  my  age  with- 
out learning  that  in  this  world  we  can't  afford  to 
cherish  enmities — not  against  any  one — not  against  any 
one.  Give  me  your  hand,  my  dear,"  she  added, 
groping  in  the  darkness. 

Paula  stretched  out  both  her  hands.  She  could 
not  speak  for  fear  of  crying. 

"You're  young,  I  see,"  Mrs.  Winship  went  on,  letting 
88 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

her  touch  wander  lightly  over  Paula's  gloves.  "I 
begin  to  be  able  to  distinguish  the  young  from  the  old 
by  little  signs.  But  of  course  you're  young.  I  re- 
member that  Mr.  Trafford  had  a  little  girl  at  the  time 
I  used  to — to  see  him." 

"I  knew  nothing  till  a  short  time  ago — " 

"About  all  our  troubles,"  Mrs.  Winship  finished  as 
Paula  hesitated.  "Of  course  you  didn't,  dear.  How 
should  you  ?  As  I  look  back,  I  can  see  that  we  knew 
very  little  ourselves.  We  were  like  children,  wrestling 
in  the  darkness,  on  the  edge  of  a  precipice.  And  it 
wasn't  worth  while — it  wasn't  worth  while." 

She  sighed,  and  Paula  felt  again  the  desire  to  cry. 

"My  husband  is  gone,"  Mrs.  Winship  quavered  on. 
"He  sees  life — this  life — already  from  another  point  of 
view.  And  I  begin  to  see  it,  too.  That's  because  I'm 
blind,  perhaps.  The  spiritual  vision  becomes  won- 
derfully clear  when  the  earthly  eyes  are  closed.  There 
are  times  when  I  feel  as  if  I  could  look  up  with  Stephen 
and  see  the  heavens  opened  and  the  Son  of  Man  stand- 
ing on  the  right  hand  of  God.  How  should  I  keep  hard 
feelings  when  I'm  so  blest  ?  I  used  to  have  them;  but 
not  now,  not  now.  I'm  glad  to  see  you,  dear." 

"If  there's  anything  I  can  do  for  you — "  Paula  tried 
to  say,  conscious  of  her  own  awkwardness. 

"No,  dear,  no,"  Mrs.  Winship  broke  in,  gently, 
pressing  the  girl's  hand.  "The  Lord  is  good  to  us,  and 
we've  never  wanted  for  anything.  My  son  and  daugh- 
ter have  had  great  success  in  their  callings,  so  that  as 
soon  as  one  door  was  closed  another  was  opened  to  us. 
7  80 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Looking  back,  I  can't  but  see  that  all  has  been  for  the 
best — even  the  things  against  which,  at  the  time,  I 
rebelled  the  most.  It's  the  Lord's  favor  to  have  shown 
me  that  in  this  life,  when  so  many  of  His  servants  have 
to  wait  to  learn  it  till  they  enter  on  the  life  to  come. 
Now  that  I  see  it,  I  feel  ready  to  sing  my  Nunc  dimittis 
Domine,  In  pace.  But  you  wanted  to  see  my  son,  I 
think  you  said,  dear  r"  she  added,  in  another  tone. 

"I  hoped  to  have  him  paint  my  portrait,"  Paula  tried 
to  explain.  "I've  heard  of  his  work — " 

"Yes;  he's  made  a  great  reputation,"  the  mother 
said,  complacently. 

"So  I  understand;  and  I  hoped — " 

"He's  coming  now,  dear.  I  hear  his  step.  It's 
always  firmer  than  anybody  else's." 

A  door  at  the  distant  end  of  the  long  room  was  thrown 
open,  and  as  Paula  looked  up  she  saw  the  young  man 
she  had  met  at  Monte  Carlo  stride  in. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A)  Winship  came  down  the  long  room,  Paula  was 
able  to  give  a  definite  outline  to  the  vague  portrait 
of  him  she  had  carried  away  from  Monte  Carlo.  She 
saw  him  now,  tall,  spare,  muscular,  and,  as  it  were, 
loosely  hung  together.  He  swung  himself  along  with 
an  easy  gait  in  which  there  was  something  both  care- 
less and  sure.  "Careless  and  sure"  seemed  stamped 
on  his  whole  person,  from  his  roughly  brushed  brown 
hair  to  the  old,  russet-colored  suit  which,  as  Paula  said 
to  herself,  he  wore  "so  distinctly  like  a  gentleman." 
In  his  ill-dressed,  aristocratic  gauntness,  he  seemed  to 
her  to  recall  the  race  of  noble,  legendary  outlaws — just 
as  a  hollow-flanked,  gleaming-eyed  dog  will  remind  one 
of  a  wolf. 

"This  is  Miss  Traffbrd,  Roger,"  Mrs.  Winship  said, 
in  a  voice  shaking  with  emotion.  "She  has  come  to 
ask  you  to  paint  her  portrait." 

"Miss  Traffbrd  and  I  have  met  already,"  Winship 
returned,  as  he  took  the  hand  Paula  stretched  out  to 
him  without  rising  from  her  chair. 

"For  an  instant,"  Paula  assented.  "I'm  glad  you 
haven't  forgotten.  You  see,"  she  added,  turning  to 
Marah,  who  had  followed  her  brother  into  the  room 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

— "you  see,  we're  al!  friends  of  Lady  Alice  Hol- 
royd's." 

Marah  Winship  made  no  response.  Her  face  had 
settled  into  an  expression  of  stony  repose.  As  Winship 
drew  up  a  small  chair  beside  his  mother  and  opposite 
their  visitor,  Marah  remained  standing  at  a  distance, 
just  where  Paula  could  not  see  her  without  turning 
round. 

"Lady  Alice  is  such  an  enthusiast  over  your  work, 
Mr.  Winship — "  Paula  hurried  on. 

"And  so  generous  in  singing  other  people's  praises," 
Winship  laughed,  not  without  a  flush  of  conscious 
pleasure. 

" — That  I  couldn't  help  hoping  you  would  do  a 
portrait  of  me,  if  you're  not  too  busy." 

"You  are  very  busy,  Roger,"  Marah  warned  him, 
before  he  had  time  to  reply.  "If  you're  going  to  have 
anything  ready  for  the  Salon — " 

"Perhaps  Miss  Trafford  wouldn't  mind  my  sending 
this  ?" 

"Not  at  all,"  Paula  smiled.  "I've  figured  there 
already.  It  isn't  so  very  disagreeable.  One  is  hardly 
ever  recognized." 

"What  sort  of  portrait  were  you  thinking  of?"  Win- 
ship  inquired. 

Paula  confessed  that  her  own  ideas  were  vague;  she 
would  have  to  appeal  to  him  for  advice.  Carolus 
Duran  had  painted  the  bust  only;  Chartran  had  done 
a  three-quarters  length,  standing;  she  would  accept 
Mr.  Winship's  judgment  as  to  how  she  should  be 

Q2 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

represented  now.  She  did  not  say  that  the  picture 
had  little  or  no  interest  for  her  in  itself.  While  he  made 
his  suggestions  she  listened  inattentively.  He  would 
paint  her,  he  thought,  at  full  length,  almost  as  she  sat 
before  him  in  the  high  Gothic  chair.  She  should  be  in 
some  sort  of  evening  dress,  black  for  preference,  or 
diaphanous  black  over  color.  She  should  have  a  small 
tiara  in  her  hair,  and  wear  a  few  fine  jewels,  possibly 
emeralds.  If  she  chose  emeralds,  he  would  carry  out 
the  idea  of  green  by  a  glimpse — just  a  glimpse — of  a 
malachite  table  in  the  background.  There  would  be 
green  tints,  too,  in  the  bit  of  sky — the  sky  of  a  long, 
late  summer  twilight— that  would  be  visible  through 
an  open  window.  It  would  be  quite  simple  —  Miss 
Traffbrd  need  not  fear  the  contrary  —  but  it  would 
be  the  princely  simplicity  with  which  she  ought  to  be 
surrounded. 

Paula  maintained  her  air  of  listening  as  he  grew 
enthusiastic  over  his  conceptions,  but  in  reality  she 
was  watching  his  play  of  countenance.  She  thought 
she  had  never  seen — not  even  in  her  father — a  face  in 
which  there  was  greater  strength  of  will.  In  the  eyes, 
soft  and  hazel  as  they  were,  there  was  a  penetration  not 
less  keen  than  in  Paul  Trafford's  own;  while  the  mouth 
under  the  brown  mustache  seemed  to  her  both  sensi- 
tive and  inexorable.  She  was  not  sure  that  she  liked 
it.  It  was  too  much  like  the  mouth  of  a  man  whom 
neither  pity  nor  passion  would  turn  from  what  he 
had  set  his  mind  on.  While  he  was  talking  of  colors 
and  poses,  she  caught  herself  wondering  if  he  could 

93 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

possibly  be  as  unyielding  as  his  expression  seemed 
to  say. 

Having  decided  on  the  general  character  the  portrait 
was  to  take,  they  discussed  the  question  of  sittings. 
Paula  admitted  the  difficulty  of  giving  them  in  her  own 
house,  and  her  willingness  to  come  to  his. 

"That  will  suit  me  admirably,"  Winship  agreed,  "if 
it  isn't  giving  you  too  much  trouble.  This  is  my  only 
studio,  I  regret  to  say;  but  it  has  the  advantage  that 
my  mother  is  always  here,  and  generally  my  sister." 

Paula  turned  round  towards  Marah  with  a  concilia- 
tory smile. 

"That  will  be  charming.  I  know  Miss  Winship  is 
an  artist,  too.  Perhaps  we  shall  have  the  benefit  of 
her  criticism  and  advice." 

But  Marah  stood  unresponsive,  gazing  blankly  at  the 
opposite  wall.  After  waiting  a  second  for  some  recog- 
nition of  her  words,  Paula  turned  again  towards  Win- 
ship.  If  she  felt  hurt,  she  was  too  sure  of  her  own 
good  intentions  to  be  otherwise  than  self-possessed. 

"And  now,  Mr.  Winship,"  she  said,  gently,  "there's 
one  other  question.  I'm  business  woman  enough  to 
know  that  there  must  be  no  misunderstanding  about 
terms." 

Winship  bowed. 

"Certainly.  I  will  tell  you  frankly  how  the  matter 
stands  with  me.  I've  just  finished  a  portrait  for  which 
I've  had  four  thousand  francs;  for  the  next  one  I 
painted  I  meant  to  ask  five." 

"I  will  give  you  fifty  thousand,"  Paula  said,  quietly. 
94 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

There  was  a  moment's  hush,  as  if  the  hearers  were 
endeavoring  to  comprehend. 

"I  don't  think  you  understand  me,  Miss  Traffbrd," 
Winship  said  at  last,  speaking  deliberately.  "I  said 
five  thousand — " 

"And  I  said  fifty,"  Paula  interrupted. 

"You're  very  kind,"  Winship  said,  flashing  one  of 
his  careless  smiles  at  her,  "but  I'm  afraid  I  must  stand 
by  my  price." 

"There's  no  question  of  standing  by  anything," 
Paula  returned.  "A  portrait  hasn't  a  fixed  and  un- 
changing value  like — like  a  postage-stamp." 

"The  money  value  of  any  work  of  art,  a  book,  a 
picture,  a  statue,  or  whatever  it  be,"  Winship  explained, 
"can  be  measured  only  by  the  reputation  of  its  author. 
A  poor  bit  of  work  by  a  well-known  man  is  worth  more, 
from  a  financial  point  of  view,  than  a  good  bit  of  work 
by  a  man  who  makes  only  a  small  appeal  to  the 
public;  and  so — " 

"I  don't  care  anything  about  that,"  Paula  inter- 
rupted again. 

"No;  but  I  do,"  Winship  rejoined.  "I'm  obliged 
to  look  at  things  just  as  they  are.  My  portrait  of  you 
might  be  as  good  as  Carolus  Duran's,  and  yet  you 
couldn't  hang  it  with  the  same  pride  on  your  walls,  or 
take  the  same  glory  in  it  among  your  friends." 

"  But  that  isn't  what  I  want  to  do,"  Paula  said,  un- 
guardedly. 

"Then  what  Jo  you  want  to  do?"  he  asked,  leaning 
forward  and  looking  at  her  straight  in  the  eyes. 

95 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

Paula  was  not  blind  to  the  directness  of  the  question, 
and  she  thought  it  rather  tactless.  It  would  have  been 
so  much  more  delicate  on  his  part  to  have  let  her  fix  the 
price  without  discussion!  His  smile,  too,  annoyed  her 
— that  is,  it  would  have  annoyed  her  if  it  had  not  fas- 
cinated her  by  its  suggestion  of  ease  and  power.  He 
looked  at  her  entirely  without  awe,  as  if  he  caught  no 
glimmer  of  the  throne  of  gold  on  which  other  people 
seated  her.  It  was  not  exactly  disagreeable,  she 
thought;  it  was  only  disconcerting. 

"What  do  I  want  to  do?"  she  repeated,  trying  to 
gain  time  to  formulate  her  reply.  "I  want  to  have  a 
good  portrait  of  myself,  and  to  pay  for  it  what  I  am 
sure  it  will  be  worth." 

"You're  more  than  generous,"  Winship  acknowl- 
edged; "but  I  must  protect  you  from  the  injustice  you 
would  do  yourself." 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  be  protected.  No  woman  does 
nowadays.  And  as  for  injustice — " 

She  stopped  in  some  confusion.  It  seemed  to  her 
that  in  Winship's  continual  smile  there  was  a  play  of 
satirical  amusement.  She  felt  that  he  saw  through  her, 
that  he  was  riddling  her  poor  plan  for  his  benefit  with 
the  silent  shots  of  his  scorn. 

"As  for  injustice — what,  Miss  TrafFord  ?  You  were 
going  to  say  something." 

It  was  Marah  Winship  who  spoke,  in  a  sharp  tone  of 
challenge.  Feeling  the  attack,  Paula  faced  about  to 
meet  it.  It  was  the  sort  of  situation  that  called  out 
her  courage,  and  made  her  spring  to  her  own  defence. 

96 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"I  was  going  to  say,  Miss  Winship,"  she  replied, 
looking  calmly  into  Marah's  snapping  eyes,  "that  as 
for  injustice,  all  of  us  have  to  bear  it — all  of  us.  There 
are  no  exceptions.  If  it  hurts  you  in  one  way,  it  hurts 
me  in  another — but  none  of  us  escapes." 

"Just  as  none  of  us  escapes  the  winter's  storm," 
Marah  returned,  hardly.  "Only  it's  one  thing  to 
watch  it  from  the  window,  and  another  thing  to  shiver 
in  its  blast." 

Paula  did  not  reply,  but  she  did  not  immediately 
turn  her  eyes  away.  She  met  Marah's  scintillating 
gaze  without  flinching,  but  she  grew  aware  of  the 
hostility  behind  it. 

"There's  only  one  prayer  for  us,  dears,  when  we  feel 
we're  unjustly  treated,"  Mrs.  Winship  said,  in  her 
high,  trembling  voice.  "It's,  'Father,  forgive  them, 
for  they  know  not  what  they  do.'  If  we  did  know, 
we'd  be  gentler  with  one  another." 

"I'm  sure  Mr.  Winship  doesn't  know  how  he  wounds 
me  in  not  accepting  my  conditions,"  Paula  said,  with  a 
faint  smile,  turning  again  towards  the  mother  and  the 
son. 

"Nor  Miss  Trafford  how  she  offends  me  by  con- 
testing mine,"  Winship  laughed. 

"I  do  contest  them,"  Paula  insisted;  "I  not  only 
contest  them,  but  I  reject  them." 

"Then,"  said  Winship,  speaking  with  sudden  gravity, 
"there's  nothing  more  to  be  said.  If  we  can't  agree, 
we  can  only  cry  our  bargain  off." 

Paula  was  not  expecting  so  abrupt  a  termination  to 

97 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

the  discussion.     Her  blue  eyes  clouded  and  the  deepen- 
ing of  the  furrow  between  her  brows  betrayed  her  distress. 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  won't  paint  my  portrait  at 
all  ?" 

"  Only  at  my  own  price." 

"But  since  I  can't  accept  it?" 

"That's  entirely  for  you  to  decide.  I,  at  least,  must 
abide  by  it." 

"My  son  shall  paint  your  portrait,"  Mrs.  Winship 
said,  in  a  tone  of  authority.  "  I  shall  act  as  arbitrater 
between  you,  for  I  understand  you  both.  He  shall 
paint  it  for  a  price  that  I  shall  fix.  It  shall  be  higher 
than  his  and  lower  than  yours." 

So,  after  further  talk,  it  was  settled,  and  presently 
Paula  rose  to  go  away.  She  felt  less  assurance  than 
when  she  arrived,  but  she  said  her  good-byes  without 
visible  embarrassment.  As  Winship  held  the  door 
open  for  her  to  pass  out,  she  turned  to  him  on  the 
threshold. 

"Our  discussion  strikes  me  as  a  little  odd,"  she  ob- 
served, her  brows  contracting  with  her  characteristic 
expression  of  perplexity.  "I've  always  understood  that 
men  wanted  to  make  money." 

"So  they  do — when  they  have  time." 

"And  you?" 

"I  shall  make  money  some  day." 

"Why  some  day  ?     Why  not  now  ?" 

"Because  now  I'm  too  busy  with  my  art.  When 
I've  mastered  that  a  little  more,  the  money  will  come  of 
its  own  accord." 

98 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"But  if  it  doesn't?" 

"I  should  have  only  one  reason  for  regretting  it." 

He  nodded  backward  towards  his  mother's  chair, 
over  which  Marah  was  leaning  tenderly. 

"  But  if  you  refuse  to  seize  your  opportunities  ?" 

"I  shall  not  refuse;  but  there  are  opportunities  and 
opportunities.  There  are  some  of  which  one  avails 
one's  self,  and  there  are  others  which  no  honorable  man 
could  take  without  losing  his  self-respect." 

"And  you  think  my  offer  of  to-day — " 

"Was  meant  kindly,"  he  finished,  before  she  could 
end  her  sentence.  "I'm  sure  of  that.  And  I'm  equally 
sure  that  when  you've  reflected  well  you'll  see  that  my 
refusal  to  accept  it  is  not  incompatible  with  the  fullest 
appreciation." 

She  dared  not  question  him  further.  She  under- 
stood that  he  had  read  her  scheme  in  all  its  blundering 
benevolent  futility.  She  read  it  so  herself,  now  that 
it  had  been  put  into  words  and  subjected  to  scrutiny, 
but  she  read  it  with  a  curious  misapprehension  of 
characters  and  hearts. 

"No  wonder  he  refused  it!"  she  said  to  herself,  as  she 
drove  homeward.  "Fifty  thousand  francs!  Five  hun- 
dred thousand  would  be  but  a  trifle  of  what  we  owe 
them.  If  it  was  five  million — well,  perhaps  that  might 
have  been  enough." 

Five  million  francs!  The  sum  appealed  alike  to  her 
imagination  and  to  her  sense  of  justice.  That  would 
be  a  million  dollars — two  hundred  thousand  pounds. 
She  knew  nothing  about  the  matter,  but  it  seemed  to 

99 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

her  as  if  it  might  represent  approximately  the  value  of 
the  Devlin  Mines.  At  least,  it  was  a  sum  with  which 
one  might  offer  restitution  without  being  laughed  at. 
Winship  had  laughed  at  her.  She  was  sure  of  that 
now.  The  very  thought  made  her  cheeks  burn,  in  the 
semiobscurity  of  the  carriage.  She  did  not  blame 
him.  She 'did  not  resent  his  derision.  She  accepted 
even  Marah's  hostility  with  a  confused  feeling  of  mak- 
ing some  atonement.  But  there  was  an  atonement 
more  practical  and  adequate  than  that  of  sentiment; 
and  with  the  unreasoning  tenacity  of  her  nature  she 
grew  more  firmly  convinced  that  her  family  ought  to 
offer  it. 

She  spoke  of  it  in  the  evening,  at  home,  during  that 
last  hour  before  parting,  when  the  string  of  the  tongue 
is  often  loosed  and  the  mind  expresses  itself  boldly. 
She  flung  her  opinion  like  a  bomb  into  the  family  circle, 
and  waited  to  be  blown  up  herself  by  the  explosion. 

At  first  there  was  neither  expostulation  nor  direct  reply. 

"Aunt  Julia,"  George  Traffbrd  remarked,  from  the 
depths  of  his  arm-chair, "  I  think  we  ought  to  send  for 
Dr.  Marier,  the  specialist  for  mental  diseases." 

"What  does  she  mean  ?"  Mrs.  Traffbrd  demanded, 
turning  with  an  air  of  distress  towards  Mrs.  George. 
Laura  arched  her  fine  eyebrows  and  looked  at  Paula 
wonderingly. 

"It  isn't  a  question  of  what  she  means,  but  of  what 
•we  mean,"  Trafford  exclaimed.  "We  ought  to  invent 
some  mild  form  of  strait-jacket  for  her.  It  isn't  safe 
to  have  her  going  around  loose." 

100 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Cheap  \vitticism  isn't  argument,  George,"  Paula 
reminded  him. 

"Cheap?"  he  retorted.  "No  witticism  that  turns 
on  throwing  away  a  million  dollars  can  be  cheap." 

"A  million  dollars  isn't  much,"  Paula  declared, 
warmly. 

"Try  to  earn  it  and  you'll  see,"  Traffbrd  threw  back 
at  her. 

"I  mean  it  isn't  much  for  us — especially  if  it  were 
divided  up  among  us  all.  We  should  never  miss  it." 

"We  shall  never  try,"  he  laughed,  gruffly. 

"Paula,  dear,  do  keep  your  senses,  at  any  rate  while 
your  father  is  away,"  Mrs.  Trafford  pleaded.  "If 
you  go  on  like  this  you'll  get  nervous  prostration — or 
you'll  give  it  to  me." 

"  Mother,  if  you'd  seen  those  people  as  I  saw  them 
to-day—" 

"  I  don't  want  to.  I  don't  want  to  know  about  them. 
When  I  remember  what  they  did  to  your  father — " 

"Well,  they're  punished  for  it  now.  They  live  in 
such  a  poor  place! — a  sort  of  old,  half-ruined  convent. 
And  everything  about  them  is  so  comfortless,  so  bare, 
so  lacking  in  all  that  we  call  essential!  When  I  looked 
at  that  poor  lady,  it  was  as  if  I  saw  you,  mother,  dear, 
old  and  blind  and  feeble  and  sweet  and  saintlike — " 

"Oh,  for  mercy's  sake,  stop,"  Mrs.  Trafford  cried. 
"You're  enough  to  give  any  one  the  creeps." 

"  And  a  million  dollars  would  mean  so  much  to  them," 
Paula  ended,  pleadingly. 

"That's  the  first  point  on  which  I  agree  with  you," 
101 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Trafford  said,  dryly.  "A  million  dollars  means  a  good 
deal  to  most  people.  But  look  here!  I'll  tell  you  what 
I'll  do.  You're  a  good  girl  and  I'll  humor  you.  I'll 
give  you  fifty  francs  for  them — " 

"George,  you're  crazy,"  Paula  exclaimed,  indignant- 
ly. "You're  insulting.  He  refused  fifty  thousand 
francs  from  me  this  very  afternoon." 

"He — what?"  Traffbrd  asked,  with  the  low,  slow 
emphasis  of  incredulity. 

Then  Paula  told  the  story  of  the  day's  experiences. 
She  told  it  brokenly,  interrupted  by  George's  and  Mrs. 
Traffbrd's  questions.  Laura  stitched  in  silence,  her 
eyes  fixed  on  her  work.  Traffbrd  drew  up  his  arm- 
chair close  to  where  Paula  sat  by  a  small  table,  merging 
her  hot  blushes  in  the  red  glow  of  a  shaded  electric 
lamp.  Mrs.  Traffbrd  fanned  herself  with  a  lace  hand- 
kerchief, as  though  in  danger  of  suffocation. 

"And  so  he  stood  out  for  more,"  Traffbrd  comment- 
ed, as  Paula  brought  her  narrative  to  a  close.  "Well, 
I  don't  blame  him.  No  doubt  he  could  see  that  if  he 
left  you  alone  you'd  bring  him  back  the  whole  Devlin 
property." 

"Why  shouldn't  we  ?"  Paula  demanded,  with  cheeks 
flaming.  "It  was  theirs.  We  took  it  from  them.  You 
said  yourself,  the  night  we  talked  of  it,  that  papa  had 
laid  out  his  plan  to  ruin  them  five  or  six  years  ahead. 
Why  shouldn't  we  do  justice  to  them  now,  late  as  it  is  ?" 

"I  never  said  your  father  had  laid  out  his  plan  to  ruin 
them;  I  said  he  had  laid  out  his  plan  of  campaign." 

"It's  the  same  thing." 

102 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Pardon  me,  but  it  isn't  the  same  thing.  Your 
father's  operations  were  in  the  way  of  business,  not  of 
spoliation." 

"That's  the  mere  jargon  of  the  market,"  Paula  cried, 
springing  to  her  feet  and  beginning  to  move  restlessly 
about.  "I've  heard  it  till  I'm  sick  of  its  sound.  Busi- 
ness! business!  It's  the  only  password  of  our  world. 
It's  our  only  motto,  our  only  standard  of  right.  So 
long  as  we  can  say  that  any  action,  however  base,  is  in 
the  way  of  business,  we  think  the  trickery,  the  mean- 
ness, the  dishonor  is  excused.  We  make  our  plea  of 
business  cover  a  greater  multitude  of  sins  than  charity. 
What's  the  good  of  our  philanthropies  and  our  libraries 
and  our  fine  plans  for  the  elevation  of  mankind,  when 
we  get  the  very  money  that  keeps  our  schemes  alive  by 
clubbing  other  people  down  ?  I  use  your  own  expres- 
sion, George.  It's  what  you  said  papa  did  to  this  poor, 
blind  Mrs.  Winship— " 

"Your  father  can't  be  made  responsible  for  my 
expressions,  any  more  than  he  can  be  argued  guilty  by 
your  eloquence." 

"I'm  not  trying  to  argue  him  guilty.  I  know  he 
wasn't  guilty.  I'm  trying  only  to  protect  him  from 
being  thought  so.  And  when  we  could  do  that  with  an 
insignificant  million  dollars — " 

"  But  could  you  ?"  Laura  asked,  looking  up  from  her 
work,  and  speaking  for  the  first  time.  "If  you  con- 
stitute yourself  a  judge  of  your  father's  doings — " 

"A  kind  of  Holy  Office  of  the  Inquisition,  consisting 
of  one  infallible  member,"  Trafford  threw  in. 

103 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

"You  couldn't  stop  at  one  isolated  case,"  Mrs. 
George  went  on.  "You'd  find  yourself  led  further 
than  you  expected." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  everything  was  wrong  ?"  Paula 
demanded,  stopping  in  her  walk  and  looking  haughtily 
down  at  Laura. 

"  Everything  could  be  made  to  seem  wrong,  I've  no 
doubt,"  Laura  replied,  quietly,  "  if  we  went  by  the  tests 
you  seem  determined  to  apply.  There'd  be  no  end  to 
the  extent  to  which  you'd  become  involved,  One 
million  wouldn't  be  enough,  nor  two,  nor  three." 

"I  shouldn't  care  for  that,"  Paula  flung  out,  turning 
towards  the  door.  "Rather  than  feel  that  we've  be- 
come rich  by  grinding  other  people  into  poverty,  I'd 
give  away  everything  we  have." 

"It's  lucky  for  us  that  you  can't,"  Traffbrd  laughed. 
"It's  lucky  for  you,  too.  Paula!"  he  called  after  her, 
as  she  was  leaving  the  room.  "Come  back.  I've 
got  something  more  to  say  to  you." 

She  turned  at  the  door  and  confronted  him.  Her 
blue  eyes  were  shining  with  tears,  and  the  color  in  her 
cheeks  had  contracted  into  two  hectic  spots  of  scarlet. 

"As  far  as  I  can  see,"  he  went  on,  with  smiling 
sarcasm,  "the  only  way  to  help  your  painter  man  is  to 
marry  him." 

"I  would,"  she  returned,  holding  her  head  high — 
"I  would,  if  I  couldn't  do  him  justice  in  any  other 
way." 

Traffbrd  laughed  aloud. 

"Ho!  Ho!  Well  done,  Paula!"  he  cried  after  her, 
104 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

as  she  went  proudly  and  indignantly  up  the  great 
stairway. 

But  Mrs.  Trafford  was  vexed. 

"Why  on  earth  should  you  put  that  notion  into  her 
head,  George  ?"  she  complained,  fretfully.  "You  know, 
as  well  as  I  do,  that  she's  quite  capable  of  doing  it." 

8 


CHAPTER  IX 

"TJE'LL  never  be  the  same  again,  Alice,"  Marah 
JTl  Winship  said,  complainingly.  "You've  never 
seen  any  one  more  changed  than  he,  since  the  first  day 
he  began  to  paint  her." 

"I  shouldn't  bother  about  that,"  Lady  Alice  returned, 
in  her  bluff,  hearty  way,  "so  long  as  the  change  is  for 
the  better." 

"But  is  it?" 

"Certainly,  if  you  can  judge  from  his  work.  That 
picture  is  a  man's  work,  not  a  boy's.  It's  got  the  two 
things  he's  lacked  hitherto — inspiration  and  authority. 
He's  always  had  drawing  and  color.  I  give  you  my 
word,  Marah,  I'm  astonished,  perfectly  astonished — I, 
who  looked  for  big  things  from  him.  That  woman 
is  Paula  Trafford  as  surely  as  Rembrandt's  'Old  Lady* 
in  Amsterdam  is  Elisabeth  Bas." 

"If  it  had  only  been  any  one  else  in  the  world,  rather 
than  a  Trafford!" 

"I  call  that  stuff  and  nonsense,  and  flying  in  the  face 
of  Providence.  The  boy's  business  is  to  paint  pretty 
women,  and  where  could  he  have  found  a  better  sub- 
ject ?  You'd  feel  the  same  about  any  one  else  who  had 
good  looks  enough  to  give  him  pleasure  in  putting  them 

1 06 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

on  canvas.  Oh  yes,  I  know  all  about  the  past;  but, 
good  gracious,  Marah,  you're  not  a  Corsican,  to  carry 
on  a  vendetta  from  generation  to  generation.  I  should 
say  that,  if  they've  fallen  in  love  with  each  other,  it 
would  be  uncommonly  rare  poetic  justice  for  them  to 
make  a  match  of  it." 

"You  didn't  want  your  own  brother  to  marry  her." 

"That's  a  different  thing.  Ludovic,  poor  lad,  came 
into  the  world  bound  hand  and  foot  with  duties,  and 
with  a  whole  load  of  family  traditions  crushing  him 
down.  He  can't  marry  the  first  pretty  face  he  takes  a 
fancy  to.  He's  got  to  keep  in  the  picture,  so  to  speak. 
There's  nothing  more  incongruous,  in  my  opinion,  than 
an  English  duke  with  a  rich  American  duchess.  It's 
out  of  drawing  and  off  the  background.  It  leaps  at  you 
from  the  frame.  Of  course,  if  Ludovic  had  done  it, 
I  could  have  lived  through  it  and  made  the  best  of  it, 
just  as  I  should  do  if  he  were  to  dismantle  the  beautiful 
Louis  Seize  drawing-room  at  Edenbridge  and  refurnish 
it  from  Maple's;  but  I  shouldn't  like  it." 

"We  have  our  family  pride  as  well  as  you,"  Marah 
observed,  with  sharp  eyes  snapping.  "Until  we  were 
driven  out,  our  own  family  had  lived  on  the  same  land 
in  New  Hampshire  for  nearly  three  hundred  years." 

"Oh,  my  dear,  America  wasn't  discovered  as  long 
ago  as  that,  and  even  if  it  had  been,  the  two  things  are 
not  the  same  at  all.  They're  as  different  as  a  Teniers 
and  a  Raphael.  Mind  you,  a  Teniers  is  just  as  good 
as  a  Raphael;  but  it's  quite  another  genre,  and  you 
mustn't  mix  them.  As  for  your  brother,  I  say  again, 

107 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

that  if  they  can  make  a  match  of  it  you  ought  to  take  it 
as  the  special  intervention  of  Providence,  and  a  happy 
way  out  of  the  coil." 

They  sat  in  the  long  studio  before  Winship's  un- 
finished portrait.  Lady  Alice,  in  her  black  cloth  gown, 
Tyrolese  hat,  and  stout  leather  boots,  was  an  excellent 
type  of  the  Englishwoman  who  is  so  sure  of  her  means 
and  position  that  she  can  dress  as  she  pleases.  Above 
the  two  women,  Paula  Traffbrd  sat  as  if  enthroned. 
She  had  been  painted  much  as  Winship  had  suggested 
in  the  first  moment  of  inspiration — in  diaphanous  black 
over  something  green,  with  a  diamond  ornament,  like 
a  tiara,  shining  in  her  hair.  From  a  chiselled  gold  coffer, 
standing  on  a  small  malachite  table  beside  her,  she  was 
drawing  a  string  of  pearls,  though  her  eyes  were  turned 
towards  the  spectator.  Through  an  opening  between 
two  columns  the  vaguely  suggested  sunset  was  fading 
out  in  tints  of  green  and  gold  and  black. 

"She'll  have  the  money,"  Lady  Alice  continued,  un- 
folding the  plan,  "and  he'll  have  the  fame.  The  one 
will  not  be  better  dowered  than  the  other.  This  bit  of 
work  means  that  he  is  going  up  to  the  gate  of  the  Temple 
with  a  good,  sharp  rap.  They'll  let  him  in  quickly 
enough  this  time.  It's  marvellous  how  he's  managed  so 
much  detail  with  such  simplicity.  And  yet,"  she  went 
on,  in  her  summary,  "nothing  takes  your  attention 
away  from  the  girl  herself.  He's  caught  the  meaning 
of  her  face  with  nothing  short  of  power.  I've  seen  her 
look  just  like  that — in  fact,  it's  her  characteristic  ex- 
pression. Don't  you  notice  it,  Marah?" 

108 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"I  can  see  it's  very  well  painted." 

"Then  it's  a  pity  you  can't  see  more.  That  rather 
pathetic  kind  of  loveliness  is  unusual  in  itself,  but 
when  you  add  her  wondering,  questioning  expression 
you  make  it  positively  significant.  It's  tremendously 
modern,  too.  You  could  never  confound  this  girl  with 
the  soft-eyed,  shameless  beauties  of  the  Lely  school,  or 
with  the  bedraped  and  befeathered  ladies  of  Sir  Joshua. 
Here  you've  got  not  only  a  pretty  woman,  but  a  human 
soul.  Any  one  might  think  that,  with  her  puzzled, 
ranging  gaze,  she  was  asking  the  eternal  What?  and 
Why  ?  of  earthly  existence." 

The  grating  of  a  latch-key  in  the  lock  of  the  door  cut 
short  Lady  Alice's  observations,  and  Winship  himself 
entered.  During  the  greetings  that  followed,  Marah, 
murmuring  something  about  see  to  her  mother,  slipped 
from  the  room.  Winship  asked  Lady  Alice  many 
questions:  When  had  she  come?  Where  was  she 
staying  ?  How  long  was  she  to  remain  ?  He  showed 
his  surprise  and  pleasure  at  seeing  her. 

"I'm  especially  glad  on  account  of  that,"  he  said, 
with  a  gesture  towards  the  portrait,  when  they  had 
finished  the  first  preliminary  topics  of  meeting.  "How 
do  you  like  it?  Sit  down  there  —  just  there  —  that's 
the  best  light.  Now  tell  me  what  you  think  of  it. 
There's  no  one  whose  opinion  I'd  rather  have  than 
yours.  Is  it  she  ?  That's  the  thing  I  care  for  most. 
You  know  her  better  than  I  do." 

"And  yet  you  seem  to  know  her  pretty  well." 

"I  do.     I  divine  her." 

ICQ 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

"  It's  a  very  pleasant  form  of  speculation,  isn't  it  ? 
You've  painted  with  a  good  deal  of  enthusiasm.  I  can 
see  that." 

"It  takes  enthusiasm  to  transfer  a  living  personality 
to  the  canvas,"  he  said,  evasively.  "You  can  paint 
clothes  and  features  by  mere  skill;  but  it's  only  sym- 
pathy with  your  subject  that  will  put  the  whole  character 
into  a  single  look." 

"And  you  find  that  she  inspires  it? — the  sympathy 
you  speak  of?" 

"If  she  didn't  her  situation  would." 

"You  mean—" 

"I  mean  that  for  me  she  belongs  to  the  group  of 
women  overwhelmed  by  the  fatality  of  circumstances, 
the  representative  circumstances  of  their  time.  Each 
age  has  its  own  types,  which  often  become  its  own  vic- 
tims. In  one  age  it  may  be  an  Iphigenia,  in  another  a 
Lady  Jane  Grey,  and  in  another  a  Madame  Royale. 
They  are  simple  women — simple  girls — without  inborn 
greatness  of  any  kind — but  the  cyclone  of  forces  con- 
centrates and  bursts  above  them." 

"  My  good  man,  do  you  mean  to  say  that  Paula  Traf- 
ford  is  threatened  by  some  overhanging  doom  ?" 

"No,  I  do  not.  I  say  only  that  she  is  one  of  the  few 
who  focus  into  themselves  the  results  of  a  great  indus- 
trial country  and  of  a  great  industrial  era.  There  she 
sits  as  I  see  her,"  he  went  on,  pointing  over  Lady 
Alice's  shoulder,  "the  type  and  the  victim  of  a  com- 
mercial age  and  a  commercial  people.  All  the  rights 
and  wrongs  of  industry  and  finance  are  forced  into 

no 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

her  hands — their  honest  gains,  their  pitiless  compe- 
titions, their  brutal  robberies,  their  sordid  trickeries, 
and  their  moral  assassinations.  She  sums  them  up 
and  represents  them." 

"Yes,"  Lady  Alice  assented,  with  her  grim  smile, 
"just  about  to  the  same  extent  as  I  sum  up  the  history 
and  privileges  of  the  House  of  Lords." 

"Oh,  more  than  that.  You're  one  of  your  class; 
she  stands  alone  in  hers.  She  can't  be  other  than  rep- 
resentative. Destiny  has  singled  her  out  for  the  task." 

"And  she's  such  a  sweet,  gentle  soul." 

"That's  where  the  curious  irony  of  it  comes  in.  Do 
you  remember  in  the  cathedral  at  Ghent  the  tomb  of 
Mary  of  Burgundy?  No?  Well,  it's  worth  looking 
at  the  next  time  you're  there.  She  lies  crowned  and 
gorgeously  robed,  on  a  sepulchre  covered  with  the 
shields  of  the  duchies,  counties,  and  baronies  she  in- 
herited from  Charles  the  Bold.  She  herself  is  a  frail, 
pinched  little  body,  who  died  at  twenty-four.  She 
lived  just  long  enough  to  marry  Maximilian,  to  have  a 
son,  to  transfer  the  Low  Countries  to  Spain  and  Austria, 
and  so  to  begin  the  centuries  of  war  and  misery  that 
never  really  ended  till  the  revolt  of  Belgium  from  Hol- 
land, in  1830.  She  was  nothing  but  a  girl  —  little 
older  than  Miss  Trafford  there — but  the  storm-forces 
of  her  time  centred  around  her,  tossing  her  into  a 
place  in  history  utterly  out  of  keeping  with  her  personal 
importance.  In  the  United  States  to-day,  women  don't 
inherit  duchies,  like  Mary  of  Burgundy,  they  inherit 
money — " 

in 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

"So  much  the  better  for  the  men  who  marry  them," 
Lady  Alice  broke  in,  bluntly.  "Some  one  has  to  marry 
them.  Some  one  will  have  to  marry  Paula  Trafford." 

Winship  picked  up  a  brush  and  began  to  fleck 
touches  on  the  soft  black  draperies. 

"Well,  won't  they?"  Lady  Alice  persisted. 

"I  suppose  so,"  he  agreed,  without  turning  round. 

"Then  why  shouldn't  it  be  you  ?" 

"I've  so  few  ambitions  of  that  kind." 

"So  few  fiddlesticks!" 

"And,  besides,  when  I  marry,  I  hope  it  will  not  be 
for  money,  but  for  love." 

"Love!"  Lady  Alice  sniffed.  "Is  love  so  out  of  the 
question  ?  You  couldn't  have  painted  her  as  you've 
done  if—" 

"Shall  I  have  to  fall  in  love  with  all  the  beautiful 
women  I  hope  to  paint  in  order  to  do  them  justice  ?" 

"Not  now,  because  she  will  have  taught  you  the 
secret  once  for  all." 

Winship  was  spared  the  necessity  of  answering  this 
retort  by  the  opening  of  a  door  near  by,  while  his 
mother,  aided  by  Marah,  groped  her  way  in. 

Lady  Alice  sprang  up  and  took  the  blind  woman 
into  her  strong  arms.  When  the  first  embraces  had 
been  exchanged,  she  aided  Marah  in  leading  her  to  a 
seat.  While  Marah  busied  herself  in  preparing  tea, 
Lady  Alice  entertained  Mrs.  Winship  with  the  account 
of  her  doings  through  the  winter.  It  was  inevitable 
that  the  talk  should  drift  to  Roger's  work  and  Paula 
Trafford. 

112 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"She's  a  sweet  girl,"  Mrs.  Winship  said,  tremulously. 
"I've  come  to  love  her  very  dearly.  So  has  my  son, 
haven't  you,  Roger  ?" 

"I  can  quite  understand  that,"  Lady  Alice  observed, 
dryly. 

"Oh  yes,"  he  laughed.  "It's  quite  intelligible. 
But  all  terms  are  relative,  and  mother's  don't  bear  being 
torn  away  from  the  context." 

"She's  been  a  great  comfort  to  me,"  Mrs.  Winship 
pursued,  gently.  "I  haven't  been  so  well  during  the 
latter  part  of  the  winter,  and  her  kindness  has  been 
very  sweet  to  me.  She  comes  and  reads  to  me,  when 
Marah  and  Roger  are  away,  just  as  you  used  to  do, 
dear.  She  took  me  to  drive  one  day,  but  I'm  afraid  that 
was  too  much  for  me.  I  don't  suppose  I  shall  go  out 
again  now,  till  I  go — home." 

Winship  and  Lady  Alice  exchanged  glances.  It  was 
evident  to  both  that  the  aged  woman  had  grown  very 
frail.  The  voice  was  strong  and  the  look  eager,  as 
though  the  spirit  were  straining  itself  to  break  away. 

"  If  you'll  excuse  me  a  minute,"  Winship  said,  trying 
to  speak  cheerily,  "I'll  leave  you  ladies  to  your  remi- 
niscences. I've  got  an  idea  I  should  like  to  work 
out—" 

"It  would  be  a  pity  to  lose  it,  then,"  Lady  Alice  re- 
plied. "Your  company  will  keep,  but  an  idea  must 
be  seized  on  the  wing." 

"The  Lord  is  very  good  to  me,"  Mrs.  Winship  con- 
tinued, in  a  high,  shaking  voice,  while  Winship,  with 
his  back  towards  them,  worked  rapidly  at  the  canvas. 

"3 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

"I  see  that  more  and  more  plainly  as  the  time  draws 
near;  and,  oh,  my  dear,  of  all  His  mercies  the  last  seems 
to  me  the  best." 

"Then  you  must  be  a  happy  woman,  Mrs.  Winship. 
Most  of  us  see  the  Lord's  mercies  to  us  otherwise." 

"I  am  a  happy  woman,  dear.  I  have  everything  to 
make  me  so.  And  yet  it  would  have  been  harder  for 
me  to  enter  into  the  joy  of  my  Lord  if  I  hadn't  learned 
to  love  Paul  Traffbrd's  daughter.  I  had  the  memory 
of  bitter  feelings  still,  but  even  that  has  passed  away 
since  she  came." 

"I  don't  wonder  you  love  her,"  Lady  Alice  mur- 
mured, sympathetically. 

"And  Roger  loves  her,  too,"  the  mother  whispered, 
bending  forward.  "Haven't  you  noticed  it?" 

"Well,  I  haven't  had  much  time." 

"Yes,  he  does.  He  tries  to  hide  it,  but  he  couldn't 
do  that  from  me.  And  she  loves  him.  I've  seen  it. 
I'm  sure  of  it.  Oh,  my  dear,  they  were  made  for  each 
other.  My  son  and  Paul  Trafford's  daughter!  If  we 
had  only  foreseen  that,  how  much  anguish  we  might 
have  spared  each  other.  But  it's  better  that  it  should 
be  late  than  not  at  all.  I  shall  go  home  to  tell  my  dear 
husband  that  all  strife  is  at  an  end." 

When  she  had  finished  her  tea,  Lady  Alice  crossed 
the  room  towards  Winship. 

"May  one  have  a  peep  ?"  she  asked,  looking  over  his 
shoulder.  "I  wouldn't  spoil  anything  by  overzeal, 
you  know.  I  should  think  you  had  almost  got  to  the 
point  where  you  might  leave  well  enough  alone.  So 

114 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

this  is  the  young  lady  a  man  couldn't  marry  for 
love!" 

"I  didn't  say  that,"  Winship  returned,  with  a  little 
warmth. 

"Well,  what  did  you  say?" 

"I  said — really,  Lady  Alice,  I  don't  remember." 

"No,  nor  I  either — exactly.  You  said  you  couldn't 
marry  her  for  love;  wasn't  that  it?" 

"I  don't  suppose  I  could  marry  her  at  all,"  he  replied, 
turning  round  and  looking  at  her  frankly.  "Where 
there  are  so  many  extraneous  circumstances  to  be 
taken  into  consideration — " 

"  But  if  there  weren't  ?" 

"If  there  weren't  an  atmosphere  round  the  earth,  we 
should  see  things  in  quite  another  light.  But  since 
there  is  an  atmosphere,  all  our  perceptions  have  to  de- 
pend upon  it." 

"But  even  in  the  atmosphere  there's  a  difference  be- 
tween cloud  and  sunshine.  You  wouldn't  refuse  to 
enjoy  a  bright  spring  morning  because  you'd  suffered 
from  last  year's  storm." 

"You  would  if  you'd  been  struck  by  lightning,"  he 
returned,  with  a  sharpness  of  tone  that  surprised  her. 
"You  would  if  you'd  been  crippled  and  blinded  and 
left  all  but  dead.  The  bright  spring  morning  would 
bring  a  rather  belated  cheerfulness  then." 

"I  didn't  mean  that,"  she  began,  apologetically. 

"No,  Lady  Alice;  but  I  have  to  mean  it.  I  can't 
shut  my  eyes  to  the  fact  that  the  two  lives  nearest  mine 
are  blasted  beyond  all  hope.  The  curious  thing  is  that 

"5 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

the  power  that  did  it  should  have  come  right  under  my 
hand.  Can't  you  see  that  when  I  look  at  that" — he 
nodded  in  the  direction  of  his  mother's  chair — "when 
I  look  at  Marah,  the  temptation  to  strike  back  should 
be  almost  irresistible  ?" 

"I  can  understand  that  easily  enough.  The  in- 
stinct is  as  primitive  as  mother's  love.  But  in  this 
sophisticated  age  of  the  world's  history  most  people 
think  that,  after  defeat,  reconstruction  is  wiser  than 
revenge." 

"Ah,  yes,"  he  laughed,  with  a  curious  glitter  in  the 
eyes,  "but  in  my  case  revenge  would  take  the  form  of 
what  you  call  reconstruction." 

"I  see." 

"You  see  some  of  it — not  all." 

"The  revenge  of  Romeo  on  the  Capulets.  I  pre- 
sume the  motive  would  be  Romeo's  as  well  as — all  the 
rest  of  it." 

"One  has  a  right  to  presume  anything  on  a  subject 
that  is  no  more  than  'the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision.'" 

"As  yet." 

He  made  no  response. 

"As  yet,"  she  insisted. 

"As  yet,  if  you  like,"  he  smiled. 

"Ah,  well,  I've  no  more  time  to  talk  of  it,"  she  sighed, 
picking  up  her  gloves  from  a  small  table.  "I  must  be 
off.  I  suppose  you  know,"  she  continued,  glancing 
up  at  him  sidewise,  "that  there'd  be  a  fight.  The 
doors  wouldn't  be  flung  open  to  you  as,  for  instance,  to 
my  brother  Ludovic." 

116 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

Winship  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  said  nothing. 

"And  so,  in  the  end,  you  might  fail." 

"I  couldn't  fail,"  he  answered,  quickly,  "not  now. 
However  it  turned  out,  the  victory  would  be  mine — now. 
In  the  one  case,  Paul  Trafford  would  carry  a  wound  in 
his  side;  in  the  other  he'd  get  it  in  the  heart." 

Lady  Alice  paused,  with  her  glove  half  drawn  on,  and 
regarded  him. 

"Hmph!"  she  sniffed  at  last.  "I  believe  you  Win- 
ships  are  Corsicans,  after  all — you  and  Marah,  too." 


CHAPTER  X 

AT  the  Pavilion  d'Armenonville,  in  the  Bois  de 
Boulogne,  it  was  the  crowded  hour  of  the  after- 
noon— all  the  more  crowded  because  the  day  was  one 
of  those  in  early  spring  when  it  seems  a  rare  pleasure 
to  sit  out-of-doors,  under  the  foliage  still  too  tender  to 
keep  off  the  grateful  warmth  of  the  sun.  In  the  long 
gallery,  and  beneath  the  trees,  there  was  such  a  move- 
ment of  going  and  coming,  such  a  rustle  of  silks  and 
satins,  such  a  hum  of  talk  and  laughter,  such  a  calling 
of  greetings  and  farewells,  such  a  tinkle  of  cups  and 
glasses,  that  two  ladies  seated  by  themselves  could  be 
intimately  alone.  Lady  Alice  had  forseen  this  when  she 
invited  Paula  to  tea  with  her. 

At  the  table  nearest  them,  a  young  actress  of  the 
Comedie  was  entertaining  a  party  of  friends;  beyond 
them,  a  couple  of  clean-shaven  American  lads  were 
having  a  Scotch-and-soda;  farther  off,  a  group  of  Eng- 
lish people,  on  their  way  from  the  Riviera,  were  taking 
tea;  the  Italians  at  another  table,  and  the  South  Amer- 
icans at  still  another,  were  regaling  themselves  with  pink 
and  pea-green  drinks  and  ices.  Up  to  the  main  door 
there  was  a  long,  double  procession  of  carriages,  motor- 
cars, and  cabs.  Liveried  chasseurs  ran  to  and  fro,  to 

118 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

welcome  the  arriving,  and  speed  the  departing,  guest. 
Swans  were  floating  on  the  lake  in  the  foreground,  and  a 
faint,  sweet  perfume  came  up  from  the  beds  of  hyacinths 
on  its  banks.  Overhead,  birds  were  flitting  and  chirp- 
ing, in  the  ardor  of  building  their  nests;  while  above  and 
through  and  beneath  all  other  sounds  came  the  wild 
twanging,  clanging,  heart-breaking  music  of  the  Hun- 
garian Tziganes. 

Neither  of  the  two  women  paid  direct  attention  to 
these  things;  they  only  submitted  unconsciously  to  the 
influence  of  what  is  a  little  out  of  the  common.  The 
glamour  of  the  sunshine,  the  strains  of  the  gypsy  air, the 
subtle  sense  of  the  romantic  that  diffuses  itself  in  any 
rich,  leisured,  cosmopolitan  crowd,  made  it  possible, 
for  Paula  at  least,  to  speak  as  she  could  not  have  spoken 
without  the  stimulus  and  support  of  an  accompaniment. 

"Yes,  Ludovic  will  be  back  again  in  a  few  weeks," 
Lady  Alice  sighed,  as  she  put  down  her  cup.  "Poor 
boy,  I  hope  the  trip  will  have  done  him  good." 

"I'm  sure  I  hope  so,"  Paula  murmured,  politely. 

"He  sails  from  Cape  Town  to-morrow.  That  '11  make 
it  about  three  months  altogether  since  he  left  Monte 
Carlo." 

"About  that,  I  think,"  Paula  murmured  again,  trying 
to  look  anywhere  but  at  her  hostess. 

"Of  course,"  Lady  Alice  ventured,  boldly,  "I  never 
asked  him  what  took  place  between  you.  I  wouldn't. 
I  think  one  can  never  be  too  delicate  about  matters  of 
that  sort.  But,  naturally,  one  has  one's  surmisings, 
don't  they  ?" 

119 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Paula  admitted  as  much  as  that. 
"I  knew  you'd  say  so,"  Lady  Alice  pursued,  as  though 
relieved  by  Paula's  assent.  "One  has  their  surmisings,, 
and  they  can't  help  it.  But  I  never  talk  about  such 
things.  Whatever  I  think,  I  keep  to  myself.  My  dear 
mother  used  to  say  that  one  always  had  plenty  of  time 
to  begin  to  talk,  but  it  was  never  too  soon  to  be  silent." 

"I'm  sure  that  must  be  very  true,"  Paula  agreed, 
innocently. 

"And  so,  as  I  say,  I  never  say  anything.  I  only 
thought — you'll  excuse  me,  dear,  won't  you  ? — I  only 
thought,  that  if  it  was  anything  in  the  nature  of  a  mis- 
understanding— " 

Paula  shook  her  head. 

"That  I  could  help  in—" 

"  It  wasn't  anything  of  that  kind,"  Paula  forced  her- 
self to  say. 

"Well,  I'm  glad  of  that — or,  rather,  I  can't  help 
being  a  little  bit  sorry,  too;  because,  if  it  had  been  so, 
there  might  have  been  a  ray  of  hope  for  Ludovic.  But, 
of  course,  if  you'd  made  up  your  mind  that  you  couldn't 
marry  him — " 

"I  offered  to,"  Paula  stammered,  in  the  hope  of 
putting  the  matter  less  ungraciously.  "I  wanted  to, 
but  the  Duke  thought  I  had  better  not." 

"Oh!" 

Lady  Alice's  dry  tone  indicated  her  astonishment. 

"He  seemed  to  think  I  didn't  love  him  well  enough." 

"And  didn't  you?" 

"He  wouldn't  let  me  try." 
120 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Were  you  ready?" 

"Yes— to  try." 

"Well,  it's  never  too  late,  you  know." 

The  swift  rose-color  came  into  Paula's  cheek,  while 
she  fixed  her  troubled  eyes  on  the  farthest  point  they 
could  see — a  swan  at  the  distant  end  of  the  lake. 

"Look  here,  my  dear,"  Lady  Alice  said,  assuming  a 
kindly,  elderly  tone,  "let  me  warn  you  of  one  thing: 
don't  trifle  with  love.  I'm  an  old  maid,  and  you  may 
think  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,  but  I  do.  I've 
had  my  experiences,  like  other  people;  and  once,  when 
I'd  seen  the  man  I  could  have  given  my  heart  to,  I 
wouldn't.  I  wouldn't  because  he  was  only  a  barrister, 
and  I  was  Lady  Alice  Holroyd,  and  I  thought  I  couldn't 
come  down.  I've  been  bitterly  punished,  I  assure  you, 
for  I've  thought  of  him  ever  since,  and  he's  been  lord 
chancellor,  too.  Don't  trifle  with  love,  dear.  It's  the 
most  precious  gift  of  life.  It  comes  to  us  once,  and  if 
we  refuse  to  take  it,  it  passes  us  by,  never  to  return 
again." 

The  ending  was  so  impressive,  and  the  Hungarian 
music  sobbed  so  despairingly,  that  Paula's  lip  trembled. 

"And  so,  dear,"  Lady  Alice  went  on,  pursuing  her 
advantage,  "you  mustn't  let  Ludovic  think  you  don't 
love  him  enough,  if  you  do." 

"Oh,  but  I  don't,"  Paula  said,  hurriedly. 

"You  said  you  could  try." 

"I  could  have  tried  then;  I  can't  now." 

"Excuse  me,  dear,"  Lady  Alice  exclaimed,  twisting 
her  mouth  into  a  sympathetic  smile.  "I'm  talking 
t,  121 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

about  what  I  have  no  business  to.  There!  I  shall  say 
no  more  about  it.  I'm  sorry  I  began.  I  shouldn't  have 
done  it,  only  that  I  know  so  well  what  love  means,  when 
it  has  once  come  to  us — and — gone  on.  Being  Ludovic's 
sister,  I  thought — but  no.  Let's  talk  of  something  else. 
By-the-way,  I  went  over  to  call  on  the  Winships  yester- 
day, and  I  saw  your  portrait.  It's  superb." 

"I'm  glad  you  like  it." 

The  new,  bright  color  in  Paula's  face  might  have 
sprung  from  mere  pleasure  in  the  success  of  the  work. 

"Like  it  isn't  the  word.  It's  a  splendid  work  of  art, 
that's  what  it  is,  my  dear,  and  you  know  that  I  don't 
speak  on  the  subject  without  knowledge,  That  man 
has  something  in  him  that  none  of  our  other  young 
painters  have  got,  and  he'll  go  far — you  mark  my 
words.  I  can't  think  how  you  ever  came  to  happen  on 
him." 

"It  was  my  cousin,  Mrs.  George  Trafford,  who  sug- 
gested my  having  it  done." 

"She's  very  philanthropic,  isn't  she  ?  Oh  yes,  I  see. 
She  got  you  to  sit  to  him  out  of  a  spirit  of  benevolence." 

"Not  that  exactly." 

"Well,  you've  done  a  very  good  thing,  in  any  case. 
He  tells  me  it's  to  go  to  the  Salon,  and  if  so  his  reputa- 
tion is  made.  How  do  you  like  him  ?"  she  ended,  ab- 
ruptly. 

"Like  him?    How?" 

"As  a  man.  You  see,  I've  mothered  the  whole 
family,  so  to  speak,  in  times  past,  and  so  I  have  an  in- 
terest in  him.  How  do  you  think  he  seems  ?" 

122 


THE   GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Oh,  very  well." 

"Only  that?" 

"No — I  wouldn't  say  only  that." 

"He  struck  me  as  very  good-looking." 

"He  seemed  so  to  me." 

"And  I  thought  him  very  determined  and  manly,  and 
so  on.  Of  course,  I  knew  he  was;  he's  always  been  so. 
They've  had  such  a  hard  time,  you  know,  or  perhaps 
you  don't  know;  but  he  had  a  man's  pluck  even  when 
he  was  a  boy.  Now  the  worst  of  that  will  be  over  for 
them,  since  you've  given  him  such  a  lift." 

"I'm  very  glad,"  Paula  said,  just  audibly. 

"And  you've  done  him  another  good  turn.  I  don't 
know  whether  I  ought  to  tell  you  or  not." 

She  laughed  lightly,  and  Paula  lifted  her  eyes,  full 
of  inquiry. 

"I  don't  see  why  I  shouldn't  tell  you,"  Lady  Alice 
went  on,  as  if  with  inward  amusement.  "It  can't 
matter  to  you,  after  all  the  admiration  you've  had." 

"Please  don't,"  Paula  begged. 

"Why  not  ?  It  isn't  anything  to  you,  and  to  him  it's 
like  electricity  to  the  wire.  You  know  what  artists  are. 
They  never  seem  able  to  do  their  best  work  until  they've 
found  some  one  who  appeals  to  their  imagination  as  an 
ideal.  Dante  wasn't  anything  until  he  saw  Beatrice, 
even  though  he  lived  to  marry  Gemma  Donati." 

"Please  don't  go  on,  Lady  Alice.  It  makes  me  feel 
— ridiculous." 

"Oh,  you  know  what  I  was  going  to  say?  Then 
I  might  as  well  stop.  I  thought  I  might  be  telling  you 

123 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

something  new;  but  of  course  you  must  have  seen  it 
long  before  I  did.  You  needn't  pity  him;  it's  the  sort 
of  thing  that  does  any  young  man  good.  Love  isn't 
for  men  what  I  said  just  now  it  was  for  women.  If  they 
have  to  let  the  best  slip  by,  they've  a  greater  faculty 
than  we  for  putting  up  with  second-best.  But — what  ? 
What's  the  matter,  dear  ?  You  look  as  if  you  were 
going  to  cry.  For  mercy's  sake  don't  do  it  here,  where 
you'll  attract  so  much  attention." 

"I'm  not  going  to,"  the  girl  managed  to  say. 

"That's  good;  but  have  I  offended  you  ?  No  ?  What 
can  it  be,  then  ?  Is  it —  ?  Oh  no,  it  can't  be.  It's 
too  impossible.  It's  too  absurd.  It  can't  be.  Upon 
my  word,  I  believe  I'm  like  the  farmer's  wife  who  went 
out  to  look  for  hen's  eggs  and  found  a  pot  of  gold. 
Paula,  my  dear,  when  you  said,  just  now,  that  you 
couldn't  try  again  to  love  Ludovic,  was  it  because —  ?" 

"Yes."  The  word  slipped  from  Paula's  lips,  though 
she  would  have  given  anything  to  keep  it  back. 

The  sobbing,  gypsy  air  rose  higher  and  higher,  till  it 
ended  in  a  clang  like  the  breaking  of  the  strings  of  a 
thousand  harps. 

Lady  Alice  leaned  back  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction. 

"Ludovic  is  safe,  thank  God,"  she  thought,  "and  so 
is  Roger.  I've  done  a  good  day's  work." 


CHAPTER   XI 

DURING  the  spring  the  first  golden  laurel-leaves 
of  popular  attention  began  dropping  into  Win- 
ship's  studio.  Before  his  work  was  finished  he  knew 
it  was  receiving  that  measure  of  respect  which  comes 
from  being  talked  about.  Up  to  the  present  his  repu- 
tation had  been  confined  to  friends,  critics,  and  con- 
noisseurs. Now  his  name  was  to  pass  from  mouth  to 
mouth,  out  from  the  narrow  circle  of  those  who  know 
a  good  thing,  to  the  broader  world  which  must  be  told 
where  to  look  for  it.  In  the  prophetic  hints  with  which 
the  great  journals  herald  the  approaching  Salon,  there 
were  frequent  hints  of  a  new,  young  artist  of  extraordi- 
nary ability,  and  the  portrait  he  was  painting  of  Made- 
moiselle Traffbrd,  la  richissime  Americaine. 

It  was  the  first  puff  of  the  trumpet  of  celebrity,  and 
in  it  Paula's  name  counted  for  much.  The  fact  caused 
her  an  uneasiness  which  increased  as  her  father  re- 
mained longer  away.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she 
had  taken  an  important  step  without  his  knowledge. 
For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  had  concealed  anything 
from  him,  and  hesitated  still  to  make  it  known.  The 
project  undertaken  as  one  of  private  benevolence  had 
become  a  matter  of  almost  public  interest.  As  the  girl 

"5 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

saw  her  name  in  print,  side  by  side  with  Winship's,  she 
dreaded  lest  some  stray  paragraph  should  fall  under  her 
father's  eye.  It  was  chiefly  with  a  view  to  avowal  that 
she  secured  the  privilege  of  going  alone  to  meet  him  at 
the  station,  on  the  day  following  her  talk  with  Lady 
Alice  at  Armenonville. 

"  Papa,  I've  something  to  confess  to  you,"  she  began, 
as  the  victoria  descended  one  of  the  long,  populous 
thoroughfares  leading  from  the  Gare  du  Nord.  The 
crowd,  the  street  cries,  and  the  rumble  of  traffic  gave 
her  courage.  She  felt  less  likely  to  fall  into  the  emo- 
tional. 

"Fire  away,"  he  said,  good-naturedly. 

"I've  been  having  my  portrait  painted." 

"What!  Again?  Well,  that  is  a  crime.  There 
will  be  no  pardon  for  it,  unless  the  guilty  object  is 
forfeited  to  the  state — and,  Tetat,  c'est  moi.'" 

"You  mayn't  want  it  when  I've  told  you  all.  It  has 
turned  out  to  be  a  very  remarkable  work." 

"That's  against  it,  of  course." 

"I  didn't  think  anything  about  it — as  a  portrait — 
when  I  began;  but  Lady  Alice  Holroyd  says  it's  very 
striking,  and  sure  to  make  the  artist's  reputation.  The 
newspapers  have  said  so,  too." 

"Ah,  well!  That's  a  pity.  But  one  can't  always 
keep  one's  name  out  of  the  papers,  worse  luck." 

"And  I've  promised  him  to  let  it  go  to  the  Salon." 

"You  might  have  hesitated  a  little  there.  You  were 
in  the  Salon  last  year,  and  the  year  before.  You  don't 
want  to  be  taken  as  an  annual,  dear." 

126 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"No.  I  thought  of  that.  I  shouldn't  have  done  it 
for  my  own  sake.  But  I  was  anxious  that  he  should 
have  whatever  advantage  he  could  get  from  showing  it." 

"Who's— he?" 

"He's  a  friend  of  Lady  Alice's.  The  Duke  in- 
troduced him  to  me  the  first  evening  you  took  me  to  the 
Casino  at  Monte  Carlo.  After  we  came  home  George 
told  me  who  he  was,  and  what  connection  his  family 
had  had  with  ours." 

"What's  his  name?" 

"That's  what  you  mayn't  like,  papa." 

"Well,  it's  his  name,  dear,  I  suppose,  whether  I  like 
it  or  not,  I  didn't  baptize  him,  so  I'm  not  responsible." 

"It's  Winship." 

"Surely  not  old  Rog— ?" 

"Yes,  papa.     The  very  same." 

"The  devil  it  is!  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  that  before, 
dear?" 

"I  suppose  I  should  have  done  it,  if  you  hadn't  been 
away." 

"But  I  wasn't  beyond  the  reach  of  letters,  dear — and 
you  wrote  nearly  every  day." 

"The  truth  is,  papa,  darling,  that  I  was  afraid  you 
mightn't  approve  of  it." 

"All  the  more  reason,  then,  why  you  should  have 
told  me." 

"We  did  talk  it  over — mamma,  George,  Laura,  and 
I — and  we  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  just  what 
you  would  like.  You're  always  so  good,  papa,  to 
people  who've  been  your  opponents,  and — " 

127 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"I  thought  you  said  you  were  afraid  I  wouldn't  ap- 
prove of  it." 

"I  had  that  feeling,  too.  You  see,  I  was  so  anxious 
to  do  something  for  them.  You've  no  idea  how  poor 
they  are — and  the  mother  is  blind,  and — " 

"Oh,  she's  living  yet,  is  she  ?" 

"Yes,  papa,  and  such  a  saint!" 

"Then  she  must  have  changed  for  the  better.  Well, 
we'll  let  it  be.  If  there's  any  harm  done — " 

"Oh,  but  there  isn't,  papa." 

"So  much  the  better,  then.  I'm  sorry,  dear,  that 
you've  been  brought  into  contact  with  these  people — " 

"But  they're  not  a  bit  like  what  you  think  them." 

"I'm  sorry,  all  the  same;  and  now  that  the  business 
is  over,  as  I  suppose  it  is,  you  can  let  the  acquaintance 
drop." 

"It  isn't  quite  over — the  business,  I  mean." 

"Well,  when  it  is,  then,"  he  said,  shortly.  "Now 
tell  me  how  your  mother  is,"  he  went  on,  in  another 
tone,  as  they  turned  into  the  Champs-Elysees.  "Does 
she  suffer  less  ?" 

"She's  very  brave  about  it.  Sometimes  I  can't  tell 
whether  she  suffers  much  or  not." 

"And  sometimes  you  can.     Is  that  it?" 

"Of  course,  when  she  has  a  paroxysm  she  can't  hide 
it.  But  I  don't  think  they  come  quite  so  often  now." 

"What  with  one  thing  and  another,"  he  said,  moodily, 
"I'm  afraid  I've  stayed  away  too  long.  But  I  couldn't 
help  it;  such  great  interests  were  at  stake." 

"I'm  sorry  if  I've  added  to  your  cares,"  she  mur- 
128 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

mured,  laying  her  hand  on  his  arm.  "You  know  that, 
don't  you,  papa,  dear  ?" 

"Yes,  dear,  I  know  it,"  he  answered,  briefly,  and 
sank  into  silence  until  they  reached  home. 

It  was  only  in  the  evening  that  he  spoke  again  of  the 
subject  Paula  had  so  much  at  heart. 

"Come  up  to  my  room,"  he  said,  as  they  rose  from 
the  table  after  dinner.  They  had  dined  alone.  Mrs. 
Traffbrd  had  not  left  her  room,  and  George  and  Laura 
were  out.  During  the  meal  he  had  been  unusually 
silent,  Paula  would  have  almost  said  dejected.  His 
anxiety  about  her  mother,  she  thought,  would  have 
been  enough  to  account  for  that.  She  was  not  ex- 
pecting his  first  words,  as  he  closed  the  door  of  the  large, 
book-lined  room,  half  library,  half  office,  into  which 
they  entered. 

'.'Did  I  understand  you  to  say,"  he  asked,  "that 
Lady  Alice  Holroyd  suggested  your  being  painted  by 
this  man  Winship  ?" 

"Oh  no.  I  said  only  that  she  knew  them.  In 
fact,  she  and  the  Duke  have  looked  after  them,  more  or 
less,  for  years  past.  They've  often  been  over  to  stay 
with  them  at  Edenbridge." 

"Then  whose  idea  was  it?     I  mean  the  portrait." 

He  lighted  a  cigar,  and  Paula  seated  herself  on  a 
sofa. 

"It  was  Laura  who  spoke  of  it  first,  but  it  was  I  who 
wanted  to  help  them.  If  there's  any  blame  to  be  at- 
tached anywhere,  it's  mine.  Laura  only  suggested  it, 
because  she  knew  I  wanted  to  do  something  for  them." 

129 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Why?" 

"Because  I'd  heard  they  were  so  poor.  The  Duke 
told  me  that." 

"Was  that  the  only  reason  ?" 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  him  frankly.  He  paced  up 
and  down  the  room,  and  only  glanced  at  her  in  passing. 

"No,  papa." 

"Then  what  other  reason  had  you?" 

"George  told  me  that  all  the  property  the  Winships 
used  to  have  had  come  to  us." 

"And  then?" 

"Then  I  was  sorry  for  them.  I  was  more  than 
sorry.  I  felt  as  if  I  were  responsible — " 

"Responsible?"  he  exclaimed,  stopping  before  her 
with  a  sharp  jerk  of  his  person.  "Responsible  for  what  ?" 

"Perhaps  I  used  the  wrong  word,"  she  returned, 
softly.  "What  I  felt  was  that  if  any  one  should  help 
them,  it  should  be  one  of  us." 

"Why  should  we?" 

"For  the  reason  that  we  had  what  used  to  be  their 
property,  if  there  were  no  other." 

"And  was  there  any  other?  That's  what  I  want  to 
know.  Speak  out,  dear." 

"  I  had  no  other,  papa." 

"Are  you  sure  of  that?" 

"Quite  sure.    What  other  should  I  have  ?" 

He  took  two  or  three  turns  up  and  down  the  room, 
and  again  paused  before  her. 

"Did  it  occur  to  you  that  I  might  have  been  hard  to 
the  Winships?" 

130 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Yes,  papa." 

"Did  the  thought  come  to  you  that  I  might  even  have 
been  unjust  to  them  ?" 

"Yes,  papa." 

"And  what  then?" 

"I  knew  you  couldn't  have  been.  I  knew  it  wasn't 
possible." 

"How  did  you  know?" 

"I  knew  by  myself,  first  of  all.  I  knew  you  wouldn't 
be.  Then  I  talked  it  over  with  Laura,  and  she  told  me 
that  no  one  could  go  behind  the  law,  and  that  if  the 
law  is  on  your  side  you  must  be  right.  And  then, 
besides,"  she  added,  looking  up  at  him  with  a  smile,  "I 
was  quite  sure  of  it.  No  one  would  make  me  believe  oth- 
erwise, no  matter  what  they  said,  no  matter  what  I  saw." 

Trafford's  brow  cleared  suddenly.  He  slipped  to 
her  side  on  the  sofa,  and  drew  her  to  him. 

"You  were  quite  right  to  have  done  it,  darling," 
he  murmured.  "  I'm  glad  you  thought  of  it.  It's  just 
like  your  goodness.  I  know  I  can  always  trust  to  that. 
I  do  like  to  help  those  whom,  in  the  way  of  business, 
I've  had  to  hit  hard.  But  you'll  never  think  that  I  hit 
hard  without  reason,  will  you  ?  You  see,  that's  what  I  • 
was  afraid  of;  and  it  would  be  a  dark  day  for  me  if  my 
little  girl  went  over,  even  in  thought,  to  my  enemies. 
You  never  will,  will  you,  dear  ?" 

In  the  very  act  of  giving  the  assurance  he  asked,  a 
sudden  determination  came  to  her.  It  was  the  woman 
in  her  unconsciously  taking  advantage  of  the  man's 
moment  of  softness. 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

"Papa,"  she  asked,  leaning  back  in  his  arms,  "have 
I  as  much  as  a  million  dollars  of  my  very  own  ?" 

"You've  more.  I  invested  a  million  dollars  in  your 
name  five  years  ago.  And  since  then  you've  had 
three  hundred  thousand  from  your  uncle  Andrew,  and 
another  two  hundred  thousand  from  your  aunt  Jane. 
Why  do  you  ask  ?" 

"Couldn't  I  give  a  million  of  that  to  the  Winships  ?" 

He  drew  his  arms  slowly  away  from  her. 
.    "Couldn't  you — ?"  he  began,  as  if  trying  to  under- 
stand her  question.     "  Say  that  again,  dear,  will  you  ?" 

She  repeated  her  words  with  some  hesitation.  For 
a  minute  he  made  no  response. 

"I  thought  you  believed  in  me,"  he  said  at  last,  re- 
proachfully. 

"So  I  do,  papa.     And  yet — and  yet — " 

"And  yet— what?" 

"And  yet  something  seems  wrong  to  me  somewhere. 
Oh,  papa,  don't  be  angry  with  me.  I  can't  bear  it,  if 
you  are.  I'm  so  unhappy  about  it.  I  don't  want  all 
that  money.  I  don't  want  any  of  it.  I'd  much  rather 
they  had  it.  Even  if  I'm  wrong,  I'd  rather  purchase  a 
little  peace  of  mind  in  that  way.  It  wouldn't  be  very 
much  for  me  to  give." 

"  But  don't  you  see,"  he  pointed  out,  with  cold  gentle- 
ness, "that  if  you  did  that  it  would  be  saying  to  all  the 
world  that,  in  your  opinion  at  least,  I  had  robbed 
them  ?" 

"Oh!"  she  gasped.  "I  see.  I  see.  Then,  of  course, 
I  couldn't  do  it  in  that  way." 

132 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Neither  in  that  way  nor  in  any  other  way,"  he  com- 
mented, still  coldly,  as  he  rose. 

"You're  wrong,  papa,"  she  said  to  herself,  while  an 
expression  of  mingled  radiance  and  fear  came  over  her. 
"There  still  remains — the  way  you  haven't  thought  of." 

And  she  sat  still,  dreaming. 


CHAPTER  XII 

"  VfOU'LL  leave  me  alone  with  her,"  Mrs.  Winship 

1  said  to  Marah,  who  was  propping  her  with  pillows 
in  an  arm-chair.  "It  will  be  for  the  last  time." 

"You  mean  that  she  won't  come  again  when  that 
thing  has  gone  to  the  Salon.  I  hope  not." 

"I  mean,  dear,  that  I  shall  not  be  here.  You  mustn't 
expect  me  to  stay  long  now,  nor  grieve  that  I  am  leaving 
you.  Of  course  she  will  come  again,  if  she  marries 
Roger." 

"Oh,  mother,  don't  say  that.  I  know  you've  been 
thinking  of  it,  but  it  would  kill  me.  I'd  rather  see 
Roger  ruined,  as  father  was,  than  married  to  a  Trafford. 
She  comes  here  with  her  money,  thinking  to  buy  us — " 

"  She  means  well,  dear.  Some  day  you'll  see  that,  and 
judge  her  more  justly.  Kiss  me,  dear  child,"  she  added, 
as  a  ring  came  to  the  door.  "Now,  leave  us  together 
till  Roger  comes." 

It  was  the  last  visit  before  the  removal  of  the  por- 
trait to  the  Salon.  Finished  and  framed,  it  stood  now 
at  the  end  of  the  long  studio,  making  a  spot  of  in- 
congruous splendor  amid  the  poverty  of  its  surround- 
ings. 

"I've  written  a  check  for  twenty  thousand  francs," 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Paula  whispered,  hurriedly,  when  the  first  greetings 
were  over.  "Dear  Mrs.  Winship,  do  take  it.  I  daren't 
give  it  to  your  son  himself.  When  you  said  eight 
thousand,  you  didn't  know  it  would  turn  out  such  a 
work  as  this." 

"Yes,  I  did,  dear.  I  knew  Roger  couldn't  do  any- 
thing but  what  would  be  very  great.  I  mustn't  take 
the  money,  dear.  I  know  what  is  in  your  heart,  but 
it  would  give  Roger  great  pain  to  be  offered  more  than 
the  sum  agreed  upon." 

"But  it  isn't  worthy  of  what  he's  done — " 

"You  see,  dear,"  she  interrupted,  "he  doesn't  value 
his  work  by  money." 

"But  he  ought." 

"You  think  so  because  you're  young.  I  would  have 
said  so,  too — once.  But,  oh,  my  dear,  I've  lived  long 
enough  to  see  how  little  money  can  do  towards  buying 
us  the  things  most  worth  having.  Roger  is  wiser  than 
I  was  at  his  age.  He's  beginning  where  I  leave  off, 
and  I  bless  God  for  it.  He's  found  already  the  secret  I 
had  to  learn  through  so  much  struggle  and  sorrow." 

She  lay  back  on  her  pillow,  with  closed  eyes,  as  if  so 
many  words  had  exhausted  her.  Paula  was  wondering 
whether  she  ought  not  to  ring  for  some  one,  when  the 
blind  woman  raised  herself  and  spoke  again. 

"I  take  your  own  case  as  an  example,  dear.  You're 
rich,  and  you  want  to  help  us.  You'd  like  to  give  us 
money;  you  don't  see  that  you've  given  us  more  than 
money  in  giving  us  yourself." 

"But  there's  the  money,  too,"  Paula  urged. 
135 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Forgive  me  if  I  speak  too  plainly,"  Mrs.  Winship 
quavered  on.  "I  haven't  long  to  stay  here,  now — a 
few  days — a  few  hours — perhaps  not  that.  I  feel  the 
heavenly  gates  opening  to  let  me  in;  and  before  I  go  I'd 
like  to  tell  you  that  I've  read  your  heart  aright.  You've 
seen  that  we've  had  to  suffer  for  the  conflicts  of  the  past, 
and  you've  wanted  to  give  us  back  something  of  what 
we've  lost.  Isn't  that  it  ?" 

"I  hoped—"  Paula  began. 

"And  you've  succeeded,  dear.  The  Lord  is  letting 
me  depart  in  a  peace  I  should  never  have  known  if 
you  hadn't  come.  You've  done  more  for  me  and 
mine — " 

"I've  done  nothing  at  all  for  Roger,"  Paula  interrupt- 
ed, quickly,  calling  him,  for  the  first  time,  by  his  Chris- 
tian name. 

"It  will  be  shown  you,"  the  mother  sighed,  gently. 
"Where  there  are  young  hearts,  like  yours  and  his, 
they'll  not  go  far  astray." 

She  sank  back  on  the  pillows  again,  and  lay  still,  with 
closed  eyes.  As  Paula  watched,  a  bright  pallor,  like 
an  illumination,  stole  over  the  waxen  face.  Presently 
there  came  a  light  breathing,  though  the  blind  eyes 
remained  closed.  Paula  sat  still,  wondering  if  this 
might  not  be  the  distant  approach  of  death,  till,  with  a 
wide  swing  of  the  door  and  long,  vigorous  tread,  Win- 
ship  came  in.  She  motioned  him  to  step  lightly,  and 
pointed  to  his  mother. 

"Marah,  come  here,"  he  called,  in  a  loud  whisper, 
through  the  still  open  doorway. 

136 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"You've  tired  her,  Miss  Trafford,"  Marah  said, 
bluntly,  when  she  appeared. 

"I'm  very  sorry." 

Mrs.  Winship  stirred. 

"No,  dear,  no,"  she  murmured,  faintly.  "It  isn't 
your  fault.  It's  only  that  I'm  going — going — home." 

She  dropped  away  again  into  what  seemed  like  sleep. 
Marah  sat  down  by  the  arm-chair,  fanning  her. 

"She'll  be  better  now,"  Winship  whispered  to 
Paula.  "Come  and  give  me  your  final  judgment  on 
the  portrait." 

They  slipped  away  silently  to  the  end  of  the  long  room, 
where  the  woman  in  black  and  green  regarded  them, 
with  her  eternal  What  ?  and  Why  ?  For  a  few  minutes 
they  stood  side  by  side  without  speaking.  The  feeling 
was  in  both  their  hearts  that  they  were  turning  their 
backs  on  death  and  the  past,  to  look  out  towards  life 
and  the  future. 

"You've  changed  it  in  some  way,"  Paula  observed 
at  last. 

"I  thought  you  might  like  it  better  so." 

"This  seems  to  me  Paula  Traffbrd  more  as  she  looks 
every  day,  and  less  as  an  abstract  conception." 

"That's  it.  Lady  Alice  said  I  was  wrong.  She  said 
the  abstract  conceptions,  rather  than  the  mere  portraits, 
survive  best  as  works  of  art — that  'Mona  Lisa'  and 
the  *  Sistine  Madonna  '  will  always  be  greater  than 
any  of  Vandyck's  cavaliers,  or  Vigee-Lebrun's  'Marie 
Antoinettes.'  Perhaps  she's  right,  but  in  your  case 
I  prefer  the  more  absolute  likeness.  You  see,  I  was 

'37 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

thinking  of  you  too  much  as  a  type  and  too  little  as  a 
lady." 

"Everybody  thinks  of  me  as  a  type,"  she  complained, 
wistfully.  "I  have  to  stand  for  Money,  like  the  female 
figure  on  a  stock-exchange." 

"I  didn't  mean  that.  If  I  thought  of  you  as  repre- 
senting Wealth,  it  was  that  great,  strange,  new  spirit 
of  American  wealth  that  is  unlike  everything  else." 

"Do  you  mean  in  the  way  in  which  it's  acquired  ?" 

"Yes,  and  in  the  way  in  which  it's  dispensed.  The 
world  has  never  seen  money  made  with  so  little  mercy, 
spent  with  so  much  generosity.  The  spectacle  is 
quite  novel,  and  must  be  extremely  puzzling  to  mor- 
alists." 

Paula  colored,  and  looked  away.  They  spoke  in  low 
tones  so  as  not  to  disturb  Mrs.  Winship. 

"I  suppose,"  she  ventured,  after  a  minute's  reflection, 
"that  that's  better  than  if  it  were  ill-spent  and  ill-gotten, 
too.  If  the  money  is  in  your  possession,  it's  something, 
at  least  to  do  good  with  it." 

"Good,"  Winship  observed,  turning  on  her  one  of 
his  gleaming  looks — "good  is  an  essentially  spiritual 
quality  that  is  not  to  be  commanded  by  any  sum  in  the 
market.  You  can't  do  good  with  money;  you  can  only 
do  good  by — yourself," 

"Money  must,  at  least,  enlarge  one's  opportunities." 

"There's  no  question  about  that.  And  yet  the  man 
who  robs  Peter  and  expects  to  benefit  mankind  by  pay- 
ing Paul  can't  do  what  you  call  good  to  any  one." 

"Still,"  she  argued,  "if  Paul  has  been  fed  and 
138 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

clothed  and  educated,  you've  added  something  to  the 
total  of  human  happiness." 

"Not  when  you've  left  Peter  hungry  and  naked  and 
brutalized,  and  tricked  of  the  means  that  were  honestly 
his.  That's  the  spectacle  to  which  some  -of  our  great 
philanthropic  financiers  are  treating  us — and  the  angels 
who  look  on  must  often  be  in  doubt  as  to  whether  to 
laugh  or  to  weep." 

"It  seems  to  me  cruel  to  say  that,"  she  said,  flushing 
still  more  deeply. 

"So  it  is.  But  it's  only  the  cruelty  inherent  in  the 
situation  when  Paul  reflects  on  the  charity  offered  him 
through  the  robbery  of  Peter." 

"Does  he  often  do  that  ?" 

"Perhaps  not  often,  but  he'll  learn." 

"When?" 

"When  the  American  people  have  begun  to  judge  by 
standards  of  right  and  wrong,  rather  than  by  those  of 
material  success." 

"  Then  we  shall  have  a  long  time  to  wait." 

"If  it's  too  long,  there  may  be  a  short  way  taken — 
that  is,  if  we  may  judge  by  analogous  situations  in 
history.  When  moral  progress  is  too  slow  to  right  in- 
tolerable wrongs,  the  human  race  has  a  way  of  ap- 
pealing to  the  fire  and  the  sword." 

"  Do  they  gain  anything  by  that  ?" 

"You've  only  to  look  about  you  and  see.  The 
France  you're  living  in  may  be  bad  enough,  but  it's 
heaven  itself  compared  to  what  it  was  before  the  Rev- 
olution." 

139 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"I  presume  you  are  not  foretelling  a  similar  revolu- 
tion for  us  ?" 

"Not  if  our  moral  forces  develop  themselves,  as  they 
should;  not  if  we  can  supplant  our  love  of  mere  brutal 
bigness  by  an  appreciation  of  the  simpler,  holier  ele- 
ments in  life;  not  if  the  rich  man  would  be  content  with 
his  own  flock  and  herd,  without  snatching  the  poor 
man's  one  ewe-lamb.  -Then,  Miss  Trafford,  there'd 
be  no  new  American  revolution.  But  if — " 

"  But  if  these  signs  and  wonders  don't  come  to  pass  ?" 

"I'm  neither  a  pessimist  nor  a  prophet,"  he  smiled. 
"I  see  only  that  when  Louis  XIV.  laid  the  first  stone  of 
his  chateau  at  Versailles  he  started  the  train  of  events 
which  drove  the  French  people  into  setting  up  the 
guillotine.  I  read  the  same  moral  among  every  people 
on  earth,  where  there  has  been  a  heaping-up  of  wealth 
and  privilege  for  a  few,  while  the  many  find  it  harder 
and  harder  to  exist." 

"And  it  is  that  heaping-up  of  wealth  that  you  take 
me  to  stand  for?" 

There  was  no  indignation  in  her  tone.  In  her  ex- 
pression there  was  only  the  look  of  pathetic  interroga- 
tion he  had  caught  in  her  portrait.  Winship  met  her 
gaze  calmly  and  frankly.  Whatever  he  felt  inwardly, 
the  appeal  of  her  helplessness  did  not  make  him  flinch. 
He  meant  that  she  should  understand  his  view  of  her 
position. 

"The  daughter  of  a  great  house,"  he  said,  "stands 
for  that  house,  in  its  good  and  its  evil.  Iphigenia 
couldn't  be  other  than  an  Atrides,  though  she  herself 

140 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

was  innocent  enough.  Madame  Elisabeth  couldn't  be 
other  than  a  Bourbon,  though  she  herself  could  never 
have  done  wilful  wrong  to  any  one.  And  Miss  Paula 
Trafford — no,  no,"  he  broke  off,  "I  won't  say  it." 

"Please!"  she  begged.     "Please!     I  insist." 

"Miss  Paula  Trafford,"  he  went  on  again,  "comes 
of  a  race  that  has  had  a  giant's  strength,  and  has  used 
it  like — a  giant!  There!  I've  offended  you,  and  we've 
been  such  good  friends  till  now!  To-morrow  this  will 
have  gone  to  the  Salon,  and  our  association  together 
will  be  over.  You  will  have  your  portrait,  and  I  shall 
have—" 

"What  ?"  she  questioned.     "You  will  have — what  ?" 

"I  shall  have  the  joy  of  having  painted  it.  It  will 
go  where  I  shall  probably  never  see  it;  but  it  will  remain 
my  work.  As  long  as  it  exists,  it  will  present  you  as 
I've  seen  and  known  and  understood  you.  That's  a 
part  of  the  artist's  recompense  that  he  can  never  lose. 
Nothing  could  take  away  from  Pygmalion  the  glory  of 
having  created  Galatea." 

"  But  Galatea  came  to  life  for  him." 

She  stopped  abruptly,  biting  her  lip.  She  had 
spoken  without  weighing  the  significance  of  her  words. 
The  color  that  came  and  went  in  her  cheek  called  forth 
a  dark  flush  in  Winship's  as,  for  the  first  time,  they 
stood  looking  at  each  other  in  emotion  they  made  no 
effort  to  conceal.  The  silence  that  followed  seemed  to 
throb  with  what  could  not  be  spoken. 

"She  will  always  live  for  me,"  he  said,  with  a  slight 
gesture  towards  the  portrait. 

141 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Yes — as  the  woman  who  could  never  dissociate  her- 
self from  the  wrongs  inflicted  by  one  class  upon  an- 
other." 

"Couldn't  she?" 

Winship's  tone  was  lower,  and  he  drew  near  her, 
looking  down  into  her  clear  eyes. 

"That's  for  you  to  judge,"  she  murmured,  faintly. 

"How?" 

"  I  was  wrong,"  she  said,  summoning  all  her  strength 
to  speak  boldly;  "I  was  wrong  when  I  said  that 
Galatea  came  to  life.  Pygmalion  prayed  the  gods  to 
bestow  life  on  her.  It  was  his  prayer  that  wrought  the 
miracle." 

"Which  means,"  he  said,  slowly,  drawing  nearer 
still,  "that  if  I  prayed — " 

"The  gods  might  hear  you,"  she  finished,  softly, 
turning  her  eyes  away. 

"  But  if  the  call  into  life  meant  for  Galatea  the  com- 
ing-down from  her  golden  pedestal  ? — if  it  meant  sac- 
rifice r — renunciation  ? — the  sharing  of  a  poor  man's 
life—?" 

"Roger!    Quick!    Come  here!" 

Marah's  voice  had  the  sharp  ring  that  belongs  to 
intense  moments  of  existence.  Winship  rushed  to  his 
mother's  side.  Paula  followed  slowly. 

Mrs.  Winship  had  lifted  herself  in  her  chair  and  was 
sitting  upright.  Her  arms  were  out-stretched  and  her 
hands  raised,  as  though  in  supplication.  The  sightless 
«yes  seemed  to  be  looking  straight  into  heaven. 

"Roger!"  she  called,  in  a  loud,  clear  voice. 
142 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Yes,  mother,  I'm  here."  He  seized  her  hand  in 
both  of  his. 

"Paula!" 

The  voice  was  weaker  now,  but  the  left  hand  seemed 
to  beat  the  air,  feeling  for  a  response.  Paula  clasped 
the  trembling  fingers  to  her  breast. 

Slowly,  feebly,  and  with  the  last  act  of  earthly  strength, 
the  dying  woman  drew  the  two  hands  together. 

"Pardon!"  she  murmured. 

Neither  Paula  nor  Winship  glanced  at  each  other. 
They  lost  thought  for  what  was  happening  to  them- 
selves, in  the  sight  of  the  passage  of  a  soul.  When  their 
hands  met,  it  was  with  a  firm,  instinctive  clasp. 

"Love!"  the  mother  sighed  again,  and  fell  back 
among  the  pillows. 

There  was  a  long  minute's  waiting,  till  the  silence 
was  broken  by  Marah's  wail. 

"Oh,  mother,  mother!  have  you  no  word  for  me? 
I've  loved  you  so!  I've  loved  you  so!" 

The  little  old  maid  flung  herself  upon  her  knees. 
It  seemed  to  her  now  as  if  she  had  been  deprived  of  the 
last  poor  bit  of  human  rights;  for  the  blind  woman 
never  spoke  again. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

THE  blind  woman  never  spoke  again.  She  lingered 
a  few  days  still,  but  before  the  Salon  was  opened, 
and  the  crowds  had  begun  to  gather  about  her  son's 
great  work,  she  was  lying  beneath  a  tiny,  flower-decked 
chapel  up  on  Montparnasse. 

Winship  found  himself  in  the  first  degrees  of  fame 
without  paying  any  attention  to  the  fact.  Rather  he 
accepted  the  fact  as  one  of  two  or  three  new  condi- 
tions that  would  bring  momentous  changes  into  his  life. 
After  a  youth  of  hard  work,  pinched  means,  and  the 
narrowest  path  of  duty,  he  had  come  face  to  face  with  a 
future  full  of  possibility.  He  was  neither  elated  by  his 
success  nor  confused  by  his  power  of  choice.  He  had 
known  for  years  what  lay  before  him  to  do,  if  ever  he 
had  the  chance — and  the  chance  had  come. 

He  had  had  no  communication  with  Paula  since  the 
day  when  his  mother  had  joined  their  hands,  in  an  act 
of  which  neither  knew  the  significance — if  it  had  signifi- 
cance at  all.  She  had  written  an  affectionate  note  of 
sympathy  to  Marah,  and  had  left  with  her  father  for  a 
few  weeks  in  the  Touraine.  But  Winship  knew  there 
was  no  coquetry  in  this  withdrawal;  it  was  only  flight 
from  a  situation  of  which  neither  he  nor  she  was  sure. 

144 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Paula's  thoughts  were  not  with  Marie  de  Medici  at 
Blois,  nor  with  Anne  de  Bretagne  at  Langeais,  nor  with 
Jeanne  d'Arc  at  Chinon,  nor  with  Diane  de  Poitiers  at 
Chenonceau.  They  were  back  in  the  long,  red  studio, 
piecing  together  the  events  of  the  past  winter,  and  trac- 
ing the  progress  through  which  her  mind  had  come  to 
submit  itself  to  Roger  Winship's. 

"You  seem  to  be  in  a  dream,  dear,"  her  father  had 
said  to  her  once  or  .twice,  and  the  statement  fitted  her. 
It  was  not  a  waking  life,  these  days  on  the  banks  of  the 
Loire.  The  primal  emotions  of  love,  ambition,  and 
hate  found  there  that  setting  of  stately  castle  and  broad 
champaign  which  softens  crime  into  adventure  and 
passion  into  romance.  The  spell  of  the  long  past  min- 
gled with  the  glamour  of  the  strange,  new  life  into  which 
she  felt  herself  entering.  The  memories  of  splendid, 
ardent  generations  fell  round  her  like  rich  tapestries, 
shutting  in  the  mysterious  chamber  of  her  heart.  She 
made  no  effort  to  confront  her  problems  or  to  smooth 
her  way.  She  was  content,  for  the  moment,  to  move 
in  her  dream — the  dream  in  which  love  is  still  able  to 
keep  to  its  defenceless  paradise. 

With  the  return  to  town,  the  thought  of  the  practical 
became  more  insistent.  What  was  to  happen  ?  How 
was  it  to  happen  ?  The  old  life  seemed  to  close  in  so 
tenaciously  about  her  that  she  wondered  how  it  would 
ever  be  possible  to  get  out  of  it.  Even  her  dream  lost 
some  of  its  reality  in  the  stress  of  giving  and  receiving 
invitations  to  dinner.  With  all  that  she  could  not  avoid 
doing,  it  was  the  third  day  after  her  return  before  she 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

could  find  time  to  steal  into  the  Salon,  and  see  the 
effect  of  her  portrait  as  it  hung.  So  much  had  been 
said  of  it  at  social  gatherings,  and  in  the  press,  that  even 
her  family  were  roused  to  some  degree  of  interest. 
When  they  began  planning  a  party  to  go  and  see  it 
together,  Paula  seized  the  first  occasion  to  slip  off  alone. 
It  was  a  wild,  wet  afternoon;  there  would  be  few  vis- 
itors; she  was  fairly  sure  of  having  the  gallery  to 
herself. 

It  was  as  she  expected.  The  great  rooms  of  the 
Grand  Palais,  deserted  except  for  the  uniformed 
guardians,  and  a  solitary  wanderer  here  and  there, 
succeeded  each  other  in  long,  empty  vistas  of  color. 
Her  own  portrait  held  a  conspicuous  place  of  honor, 
and  of  the  rare  visitors  two  or  three  were  generally 
stationed  before  it.  She  sat  on  a  divan  in  the  centre 
of  the  room,  but  too  far  off  to  challenge  comparison 
with  the  object  of  interest  on  the  wall. 

As  she  gazed  about  her  she  thought  with  compassion 
of  the  amount  of  ambition  and  toil  that  had  gone  to 
make  up  such  a  collection — toil  that  would  never  reap 
an  adequate  reward,  ambition  that  would  never  have 
any  fulfilment.  Who  would  buy  the  hundreds  upon 
hundreds  of  landscapes  and  sea-views,  of  domestic 
scenes  and  studies  of  still  life,  that  hung  about  her  ? 
They  might  have  been  those  of  last  year,  or  of  the 
year  before,  or  of  the  year  before  that,  or  of  any  year 
since  the  Salon  was  founded.  What  became  of  all  the 
pictures  that  were  painted  ?  What  became  of  the  men 
and  women  who  painted  them  ?  The  feeling  of  pity 

146 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

which  rose  now  was  new  to  her — new  since  she  had 
watched  Marah  working  away,  day  after  day,  at  her 
little  wooden  miniatures  —  new  especially  since  the 
question  touched  the  man  she  loved. 

He,  too,  had  sent  his  offspring  here  for  the  last  five 
years.  She  herself  had  passed  them  by  and  never 
noticed  them.  The  dumb  things  had  appealed  to  her 
for  a  glance,  and  she  had  ignored  them.  Hundreds  of 
thousands  had  moved  on  in  the  same  neglect  and  in- 
difference. It  seemed  now  like  a  wound  to  her  own 
pride.  True,  he  had  done  some  of  them  as  commis- 
sions, and  some  of  them  he  had  sold;  but  she  knew  that 
some,  too,  were  still  roaming  from  one  exhibition  to  an- 
other in  the  hope  of  finding  a  purchaser.  So  much 
effort  and  little  or  no  recompense!  Her  father  or 
George  would  scoff  at  all  that  Winship  could  earn  in  a 
year.  Even  for  this  thing,  which  was  counted  a  success, 
he  had  received  but  eight  thousand  francs,  and,  for  a 
man  of  his  standing,  was  to  be  considered  well  paid. 
Eight  thousand  francs!  She  had  often  spent  as  much 
for  a  trinket.  The  very  fact  that  women  of  fashion, 
women  of  her  own  world,  were  already  coming  to  be 
painted  by  him,  scorched  her  with  a  sense  of  humiliation 
that  he  should  be  dependent  on  their  patronage.  That, 
at  least,  need  never  be,  she  reflected,  with  some  exulta- 
tion. She  had  no  high-flown  theories  of  the  beauty  of 
art  or  of  the  nobility  of  toil.  It  was  enough  to  know 
that  the  man  she  loved  would  be  free  from  all  sordid 
cares  of  that  kind — when  she  married  him. 
.  She  had  reached  this  point  in  her  meditations  when  a 
147 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

footstep  startled  her,  and  Winship  himself  glided  on  to 
the  divan  beside  her. 

There  were  many  reasons  why  it  should  be  a  moment 
when  all  guards  were  down.  They  had  lived  through 
months  of  repressed  emotion — months  in  which  each 
had  been  a  problem  in  the  other's  life.  The  thought  of 
love  had  been  beaten  back  by  large,  persistent  questions 
of  mutual  rights  and  wrongs.  Now  it  leaped  to  the 
front  and  claimed  the  field. 

Before  he  realized  what  he  was  saying,  Winship  had 
done  that  which,  for  weeks,  he  had  been  planning  not  to 
do.  He  had  declared  his  love,  as  any  man  to  any  wom- 
an, and  he  had  implored  her  to  be  his  wife.  He  had 
done  it  with  a  few  quick,  passionate  words,  in  which 
there  were  none  of  the  conditions  and  contingencies 
with  which  he  had  meant  to  speak.  He  had  foreseen 
this  moment,  but  he  had  foreseen  it  as  one  of  compli- 
cated explanations.  He  had  prepared  his  points,  as  an 
ambassador  prepares  a  treaty,  and  lo!  they  had  gone 
for  naught.  The  unexpected  sight  of  her,  sitting  on 
the  red  divan,  simply  dressed  in  black,  as  though  in 
mourning  for  his  mother,  had  swept  away  all  his 
theories,  and  left  him  nothing  but  his  passion  as  a 
man.  The  minute  she  lifted  her  surprised,  appeal- 
ing eyes  to  his  there  had  been  only  one  thing  to 
say. 

There  was  no  formal  greeting  between  them.  He 
slipped  on  to  the  divan  without  touching  her  hand. 

"I  didn't  know  you  were  back,"  he  whispered. 
"Don't  go  away  and  leave  me  like  that  again." 

148 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"  Did  you  miss  me  ?"  she  asked,  with  childlike  direct- 
ness. 

"It  wasn't  like  missing — it  was  as  if  my  own  soul 
were  gone.  Every  kind  of  experience  has  come  to  me 
all  at  once,  and  yet,  in  your  absence,  I  seem  to  have 
been  benumbed.  It  was  as  if  I  couldn't  feel  joy 
in  my  bit  of  triumph,  nor  sorrow  when  we  laid 
my  mother  in  her  grave.  When  you  went,  all 
went;  and  I  didn't  know  that  you'd  come  back 
again." 

"I  didn't  know  you  wanted  me." 

His  response  came  in  the  tones  that  ring  forever  in  a 
woman's  heart,  and  which  she  carries  with  her  into 
paradise.  The  mere  words  Paula  had  heard  before, 
but  they  had  not,  as  now,  been  set  to  a  music  with  which 
her  own  being  sang.  They  were  only  the  well-used 
formulas,  which  are  all  that  language  provides,  and  to 
which  the  living  voice  alone  lends  the  significance. 
But  to  Winship  they  seemed  new.  He  uttered  them  as 
though  they  were  sounds  never  before  heard  on  earth, 
and  Paula  bowed  her  head,  as  though  listening  to  words 
too  sacred  for  the  human  ear. 

It  was  a  lyric  moment,  and  it  was  soon  over.  A  few 
eager  questions,  a  few  straightforward  replies,  and  they 
were  sitting  with  clasped  hando,  pledged  to  become 
man  and  wife. 

The  dull-eyed,  uniformed  guardians  paid  them  no 
attention;  the  visitors  who  entered  the  room  walked 
briskly  up  to  the  much-discussed  portrait  without  giving 
them  a  glance.  Only  the  woman  in  black  and  green 

149 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

looked  down  on  them  from  her  gilded  frame,  with  her 
ever-unanswered  What  ?  and  Why  ? 

Perhaps  it  was  the  sight  of  that  which  recalled  Win- 
ship  to  himself.  All  at  once  he  seemed  to  fall  from  the 
blue  ether,  where  he  and  Paula  had  floated  alone,  to 
find  himself  again  part  of  an  intricate  society.  He 
came  down  with  a  swift  realization  of  the  change  which 
a  few  minutes  had  produced.  There  was  no  dash  upon 
his  happiness;  he  had  only  the  sudden  fear  of  owing 
his  happiness  to  a  trick. 

He  had  not  explained  himself  to  Paula  as  he  had  in- 
tended. He  had  not  made  clear  to  her  the  distinction 
he  drew  between  Paula,  the  woman  made  in  the  image 
of  God,  and  Miss  Traffbrd,  the  heiress  of  the  man  who 
had  ruined  his  father,  Roger  Winship,  in  order  to  insure 
his  own  success.  In  their  mutual  situation  love  alone 
could  not  be  the  determining  element,  and  she  had 
given  her  promise  without  understanding  a  point  which 
to  him  was  essential.  With  what  skill  he  could  master 
he  must  weave  the  warning  in,  as  a  skilful  composer  will 
make  the  death-motive  heard  in  the  very  strains  of  the 
love-chant. 

"Paula,  dear  Paula,"  he  whispered,  "I've  been  afraid 
of  you.  I've  been  afraid  you  wouldn't  come  with  me 
on  the  road  I  must  travel." 

"I'd  go  anywhere  with  you,  Roger — anywhere  on 
earth." 

"It  won't  be  an  easy  way — especially  for  you." 

"Nothing  will  be  hard  with  you  to  help  me.  I've 
plenty  of  courage  to  face  whatever  must  be  en- 

150 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

countered.      I've  some  skill,  too,"  she  added,  with  a 
smile. 

"You'll  need  it,  darling.  Above  all,  you'll  need 
faith  in  me." 

"You  couldn't  overtax  that,  Roger." 

"Our  love  can't  take  the  common  course.  You  and 
I  can't  be  like  a  knight  and  a  lady  in  a  troubadour's 
romance.  We  have  other  things  between  us  than  just 
the  fact  that  we  love  each  other." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  puzzled  expression  and 
an  air  of  listening  only  half  attentively.  A  far-off 
clatter  of  footsteps  caught  her  ear,  with  a  hum  of 
voices. 

"Even  before  we  met,  we  were  united  by  a  past — 
Winship  pursued. 

"Oh,  don't  let  us  talk  of  that  now,"  she  entreated. 

"On  the  contrary,  we  must.  Don't  let  us  have  any 
reserves  between  us.  It's  been  in  your  thoughts  all 
winter,  as  it's  been  in  mine — " 

The  sound  of  footsteps  drew  nearer,  and  she  hastened 
to  speak. 

"  But  it's  all  over  now,  Roger.  All  I  have  is  yours — 
all  I  shall  ever  have — " 

She  stopped  abruptly.  The  quick,  incisive  ring  of  one 
of  the  approaching  voices  frightened  her. 

"You  yourself  will  be  enough,  dear,"  Winship  said, 
with  a  significant  inflection. 

But  she  was  no  longer  listening.  She  sat  erect,  alert 
and  pale.  The  voice  was  surely  Laura's.  The  party 
were  advancing,  not  directly  behind  them,  but  through 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

a  series  of  rooms  at  the  side.  Even  Winship's  atten- 
tion was  diverted  to  them  now. 

"If  you'd  only  listen  to  me,  George,"  Laura  was 
protesting,  "we  shouldn't  have  had  this  endless  tramp. 
I  knew  from  the  beginning  that  it  was  down  this  way. 
No  wonder  poor  Aunt  Trafford  is  tired  out." 

Winship  and  Paula  sprang  to  their  feet.  Instinc- 
tively they  moved  apart.  Winship  retreated  a  few 
paces  from  the  divan,  while  Paula  turned  to  confront 
the  members  of  her  family,  as  they  came  in,  in  irregular 
procession,  from  the  adjoining  room.  Mrs.  George 
was  in  the  forefront. 

"Why,  here's  Paula,  Uncle  Traffbrd,"  she  called  back, 
from  the ' threshold.  "After  all  the  hunt  we've  had 
for  her,  we  find  her  on  the  spot." 

"There's  no  help  for  it,"  the  girl  reflected,  feeling 
less  brave  than  a  minute  or  two  ago.  "I  must  tell 
them — and  do  it  now." 

"For  goodness'  sake,  Paula,"  Mrs.  Trafford  panted, 
as  she  marched  in  fanning  herself,  "I  wish  you  wouldn't 
spirit  yourself  away,  where  no  one  knows  where  to  look 
for  you.  Your  father's  been  turning  the  house  upside- 
down.  He's  been  as  crazy  as  if  yqu'd  been  kidnapped." 

"It's  all  right  now,  since  we've  found  her,"  Paul 
Trafford  laughed,  striding  up  to  his  daughter  and 
pinching  her  cheek.  "So  this  is  the  famous  portrait. 
Well,  it's  you,  sure  enough." 

"  Portrait  de  Mademoiselle  T ,"  George  Trafford 

read  from  the  inscription.  "I  should  label  it  'A  Note 
of  Interrogation.'  He's  made  you  look  as  new-born  into 

'52 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

the  mysteries  of  this  terraqueous  globe  as  Eve  when  she 
first  wakes  in  the  garden.  No  one  could  possibly  live 
to  your  age  and  be  as  innocent  as  that." 

"That's  the  black-and-green  thing  Paquin  made 
for  you,"  Mrs.  Traffbrd  commented,  sinking  on  the 
divan.  "Why  on  earth  did  you  select  that?  I  sup- 
pose it  was  to  bring  out  your  complexion.  It  does  do 
that,  I  must  say." 

"That's  a  beautiful  malachite  table,"  Laura  observed. 
*'  George,  dear,  I'm  simply  dying  to  have  one.  It  would 
go  so  well  in  the  tapestry-room  at  Tuxedo.  I  believe 
he's  copied  the  gilded  legs  of  this  one  from  the  mala- 
chite table  in  the  Grand  Trianon." 

All  eyes  were  bent  on  the  portrait.  To  Winship, 
standing  remote  and  in  the  background,  no  one  had 
given  a  glance.  Paula  kept  herself  rigid  and  erect, 
waiting  for  her  moment.  It  was  not  till  her  father  turn- 
ed again  towards  her,  after  a  few  more  comments  from 
the  family,  all  in  the  same  strain,  that  she  knew  the 
hour  had  come. 

"Papa,"  she  said,  huskily,  "this  is  Mr.  Roger  Win- 
ship,  who  painted  my  portrait.  I've  promised  to  marry 
him." 

Trafford  stood  still,  as  if  turned  to  stone.  Mrs. 
Trafford  glanced  backward  from  her  seat  on  the  divan. 
George  and  Laura  wheeled  round  from  their  contem- 
plation of  the  portrait.  It  was  the  sort  of  shock  that 
translates  itself  slowly  to  the  thought,  more  slowly  still 
into  action. 

Winship  remained  motionless,  his  gleaming  eyes 
153 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

fixed  on  the  man  who  had  struck  his  father  down.  His 
trained  observation  watched,  while  dull,  ashen  hues 
stole  into  Paul  Trafford's  face,  and  the  determined  lips 
settled  themselves,  shade  by  shade,  into  the  lines  of 
pain. 

The  silence  was  long.  It  was  only  by  degrees  that 
the  full  meaning  of  the  situation  made  itself  clear.  The 
eyes  of  the  family,  that  had  been  fixed  in  amazed  con- 
templation on  Winship,  now  turned  towards  Trafford, 
waiting  for  a  sign. 

"Paula,  go  home,"  he  commanded  at  last.  "Take 
her,"  he  added  to  his  wife.  There  was  a  quiver  in  his 
voice  as  if  he  could  say  no  more. 

Paula  advanced  towards  Winship  and  held  out  her 
hand.  He  took  it  and  held  it  long,  but  no  word  was 
spoken  between  them. 

"Go!"  Trafford  cried,  with  the  brief  threat  of  anger, 
and  Paula  turned. 

She  went  out  first,  with  bowed  head,  through  the  door 
by  which  they  had  all  come  in.  Her  mother  followed, 
pressing  her  handkerchief  to  her  lips.  Trafford  nodded 
to  George  and  Laura  to  precede  him.  George  went  out 
obediently,  very  pale.  On  the  threshold  of  the  room 
Laura  turned  and  looked  back  at  Winship.  It  was 
the  only  glance  of  recognition,  if  recognition  it  was, 
that  had  been  vouchsafed  him.  Trafford  himself  left 
last. 

Winship  stood  still,  listening  to  the  tramp,  tramp  of 
their  footsteps  through  the  long  defile  of  rooms.  He 
listened  while  the  sound  grew  fainter,  and  till  at  last  it 

154 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

died  away.     Then  he  flung  himself  on  the  divan  and 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

"  Paul  Traffbrd  has  got  it  in  the  heart,"  he  muttered 
to  himself.  "My  God,  I've  done  it! — after  the  long 
years.  Even  if  I  lose  her  now — the  victory  is  mine." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

EFTLE  was  said  between  Paula  and  her  mother 
on  the  homeward  drive.  With  her  head  thrown 
back  into  the  corner  of  the  carriage,  Mrs.  Trafford 
sobbed  gently. 

"Oh,  mother,  don't,"  Paula  pleaded,  from  time  to 
time;  but  Mrs.  Trafford  only  sobbed  the  more. 

"It's  my  fault,"  she  moaned.  "I  never  should  have 
allowed  you  to  think  of  that  absurd  portrait.  I  might 
have  known  that  some  evil  would  happen  when  you 
began  to  take  up  with  your  father's  enemies.  It's  my 
fault,  and  I  never  shall  forgive  myself." 

"No,  mother,  dear,  it's  not  your  fault.  The  painting 
of  the  portrait  didn't  make  me  love  him.  I  loved  him 
before  that.  I  can  see  it  now." 

"Don't  say  such  a  thing.     It's  shameful." 

"But  I  did,  mother.  I  did,  even  if  it  were  shameful. 
I  loved  him  before  the  Duke  introduced  him  to  me. 
I've  never  ceased  to  think  of  him,  from  the  first  moment 
I  saw  him." 

"Oh,  the  poor  Duke!  I  wonder  you  have  the  heart 
to  mention  him.  If  you'd  only  married  him,  as  you 
should  have  done,  this  dreadful  scandal  wouldn't  have 
come  upon  us.  The  newspapers  are  sure  to  get  hold  of 

156 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

it.     They  always  do.     I  can't  begin  to  think  what  your 
father  will  say,  after  the  way  he's  spoiled  you." 

Paula  sat  erect  and  silent.  Her  mother  had  touched 
the  one  point  that  was  vital.  What  would  Paul  Traf- 
ford  say  and  do  ?  There  was  no  question  to  be  asked 
beyond  that.  Beside  that  nothing  counted. 

They  reached  home  at  almost  the  same  moment  as 
George  and  Laura.  The  father  was  following  alone. 

"It's  my  fault,"  Mrs.  Trafford  broke  out  anew,  as 
they  all  met  in  the  great  entrance-hall.  "  I  should  never 
have  allowed  her  to  think  of  it.  I  should  have  insisted 
on  her  marrying  the  Duke  of  Wiltshire.  Better  that 
she  should  have  taken  that  Comte  de  Presles,  though  I 
never  could  endure  him.  But  anybody — anybody — 
rather  than  such  disgrace  as  this!  No!  I  shall  never 
forgive  myself.  Never!  Never!" 

"If  it's  any  one's  fault,  Aunt  Julia,"  Traffbrd  spoke 
up,  trying  to  be  consoling,  "it's  mine.  I  shouldn't  have 
told  her  anything  about  the  Winships,  to  begin  with. 
I  should  have  known  the  kind  of  ardent,  crazy  way  in 
which  she'd  take  it." 

I^aura  said  nothing,  but,  if  possible,  her  face  was 
clearer  and  more  business-like  than  ever.  From  the 
glance  of  her  gray  eye  to  the  brisk  movements  of  her 
person,  everything  bespoke  resolution  and  restraint. 
Paula  remained  apart  and  behind  them,  just  within  the 
door,  like  a  child  in  disgrace. 

"Come  up  to  my  room  and  talk  about  it,"  Mrs.  Traf- 
ford begged.  "I  must  have  something  to  say  to  your 
uncle  when  he  comes  in." 

'57 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Moving  heavily  and  moaning  as  she  went,  Mrs.  Traf- 
ford  mounted  the  splendid  stairway.  George  and 
Laura  followed.  Excluded  from  the  approaching  con- 
ference, Paula,  nevertheless,  went  forward  timidly  be- 
hind them.  At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  she  paused.  The 
sounds  of  wheels  had  caught  her  ear.  Her  father  was 
returning.  She  would  see  him  and  make  one  plea,  even 
if  it  were  a  silent  one.  She  stepped  aside,  standing  in- 
conspicuously by  the  pedestal  of  a  statue. 

Flinging  his  hat  and  rain-coat  to  the  footman  in  the 
antechamber,  Paul  Traffbrd  entered,  with  set  lips  and 
rapid  stride.  In  his  eyes  was  the  look  with  which 
boards  of  directors  were  familiar,  but  which  Paula  had 
never  seen.  It  was  the  look  that  quenched  inquiry 
before  it  could  rise,  and  bore  down  opposition  as  if  in 
sheer  insolence  of  strength.  It  was  the  look  that  turned 
weaker  men  into  enemies,  and  drew  hatred  from  those 
who  were  made  rich  by  his  co-operation.  To  Paula  it 
was  new  and  frightening.  She  crept  out  of  the  shadow 
of  the  statue  and  stretched  out  her  arms  towards  him. 

"Oh,  papa,  don't  look  at  me  like  that." 

She  would  have  caught  him,  touched  him  at  the  least; 
but  he  put  up  his  hand  to  keep  her  back.  She  grasped 
it,  but  he  tore  it  from  her,  and  pushed  her  away. 

She  staggered,  regained  her  footing  on  the  polished 
floor,  staggered  again,  and,  recoiling  towards  the  pedes- 
tal of  the  statue,  fell.  It  was  an  accident,  the  mere  mis- 
calculation of  his  iron  strength,  but  as  she  reeled  and 
went  down,  Traffbrd  thrilled  with  a  sense  of  satisfaction. 
The  very  brutality  of  the  act  was  an  assuagement  to  the 

158 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

pain  of  his  outraged  adoration.  At  the  turning  of  the 
stairway  he  glanced  down  at  her  as  she  lay.  Let  her  lie! 
She  was  the  one  being  in  the  world  against  whose  blow 
he  had  no  power  of  defence,  and  she  had  struck  him. 

He  passed  on  to  his  room,  and  rang  for  his  secretary. 
Two  minutes  later  he  was  dictating  letters  on  business. 
It  was  partly  the  instinct  for  work,  partly  the  impulse 
to  seek  refuge  in  the  commonplace  from  this  upheaval  in 
his  affections.  He  had  not  reached  the  point  of  con- 
sidering the  situation  in  its  practical  light,  practical  man 
though  he  was.  All  he  could  think  of  now,  all  there 
was  room  for  in  his  big  intelligence,  was  the  fact  that  his 
little  girl,  the  one  creature  on  earth  whom  he  loved 
with  an  idolatrous  tenderness,  had  taken  a  step  which, 
as  she  must  have  known  beforehand,  would  create  a 
cruel  breach  between  them.  No  matter  how  it  turned 
out  now,  the  fact  that  she  had  done  it  would  be  there. 

She,  too,  in  her  room,  was  thinking  in  the  same  strain 
of  him.  When  he  had  thrust  her  from  him  the  action 
had  taken  her  by  surprise.  Not  even  when  she  fell  did 
she  seize  its  full  significance.  It  was  only  when  she 
caught  his  merciless  glance,  as  he  passed  up  the  stair- 
way, that  she  understood  the  extent  of  the  indignity  he 
had  put  upon  her.  - 

For  a  second  or  two  she  lay  quite  still.  She  pressed 
her  cheek  on  the  cold,  polished  wood,  drinking  in  her 
humiliation.  When  she  dragged  herself  up,  two  hectic 
spots  were  blazing  on  her  cheeks,  while  in  her  soft  eyes 
there  was  a  light  that  made  them  curiously  like  her 
father's.  As  she  marched  up-stairs  her  head  was  high, 

159 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

and  her  step  firm,  with  a  determination  altogether  new 
to  her.  It  came  over  her  then  that  she  could  never  be 
again  the  clinging,  dependent  Paula  Trafford  of  the  past. 
Whatever  she  did  in  the  end,  she  knew  that,  outside 
herself,  there  would  be  no  stay  sure  enough  to  lean  on. 
She  must  be,  in  future,  her  own  guide,  her  own  judge, 
the  arbitrator  of  her  own  destiny.  She  felt  like  a  child, 
putting  forth  into  the  night  alone.  Between  leaving 
her  father's  door  and  reaching  Roger  Winship's  there 
was  a  dark,  unknown  road  to  travel,  but  she  must  face 
it.  It  was  difficult  to  believe  that  her  father's  protecting 
love  would  not  be  there.  She  was  so  used  to  it  that  to 
be  without  it  was  like  being  without  shelter.  Instinc- 
tively she  yearned  to  stretch  out  her  hands  to  him  again, 
but  the  impulse  died  in  the  recollection  that  he  had 
struck  her  down. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  Traffbrd  dismissed 
his  secretary  and  summoned  his  wife,  George,  and 
Laura.  They  filed  into  his  book-lined  office,  as  children 
before  a  master.  Mrs.  Trafford  sat  near  him,  by  the 
desk;  George  and  Laura  farther  off.  Through  all  the 
business  of  the  afternoon,  Trafford's  thoughts  had  been 
working  subconsciously  towards  the  definite  step  to  be 
taken. 

"Now,  tell  me  about  this  affair,"  he  said,  briefly. 
"Tell  me  everything." 

Mrs.  Trafford,  trembling  and  gasping,  recounted 
what  she  knew  of  the  first  meeting  of  Paula  and  Win- 
ship  at  Monte  Carlo,  and  of  the  progress  of  their  ac- 
quaintance. 

160 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"  I  shall  never  forgive  myself,  Paul,"  she  sobbed,  as 
she  brought  her  statement  to  an  end. 

"You  never  ought  to,"  he  said,  with  the  shortness 
habitual  to  him  in  moments  of  excitement.  "You 
knew,  as  no  one  else  did,  what  those  people  brought  on 
me.  You  knew  how  I  had  to  fight  them,  and  how, 
because  I  beat  them,  public  opinion  has  hounded  me  as 
if  I  were  a  criminal.  They  take  me  for  a  heart  of  brass, 
indifferent  to  attack  of  that  sort ;  but  you  knew  better. 
And  yet  you've  permitted  this!" 

"Paul,  I'm  very  ill,"  she  pleaded.     "Spare  me!" 

"I  do  spare  you.  If  I  didn't  spare  you,  I  should  say 
much  ore." 

"Aunt  Julia  is  less  to  blame  than  I,"  George  broke 
out,  with  a  touch  of  indignation  in  his  voice.  "It  was 
I  who  told  Paula  all  about  the  Winships." 

"There  was  no  harm  in  her  knowing  that,"  Traf- 
ford  said,  quickly.  "  There  was  nothing  I  want- 
ed to  hide.  You  didn't  thrust  her  into  their 
arms." 

"No;  but  I  let  her  go.  I  knew  she  felt  that  in  some 
way  we  had  wronged  them — " 

"Then,  by  God!  she'll  learn  to  the  contrary,"  Traf- 
ford  cried,  bringing  his  fist  down  on  the  desk. 

"I  knew  she  felt  that,"  George  went  on,  "but  I 
laughed  at  her.  I  didn't  take  her  seriously.  When 
she  talked  of  giving  them  a  million  dollars  in  restitution, 
I  joked  about  it,  and  told  her  the  easiest  way  for  her  to 
do  it  was  by  marrying  the  fellow." 

"Then  you  were  a  damn  fool." 
161 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"I  know  it,"  George  agreed,  humbly.  "I'm  only 
showing  that  I  was  more  to  blame  than  Aunt  Julia." 

"I  don't  see  anything  to  be  gained,  George,"  Laura 
said,  in  her  most  mildly  reasonable  tone,  "  by  trying  to 
apportion  out  degrees  of  blame,  where,  perhaps,  there 
is  no  blame  at  all.  Paula  is  of  age  and  independent. 
She's  her  own  mistress  in  every  sense.  Neither  you 
nor  I  had  any  control  over  her,  and  Aunt  Julia  very 
little.  It  was  Uncle  Trafford's  wish.  That's  the  way 
he's  brought  her  up." 

"I  trusted  her,"  Trafford  broke  in,  savagely. 

"Naturally,"  Laura  agreed.  "So  did  we.  I  should 
trust  her  again.  I  must  tell  you,  Uncle  Trafford,  dear, 
that  it  was  I  who  sent  Paula  to  have  that  portrait  done." 

"Oh,  you  did,  did  you!  Yes,  I  remember  her  telling 
me  so.  Then  all  I  can  say  of  you  is  that — " 

"You  see,"  Laura  pursued,  calmly,  "after  the  con- 
versation at  Monte  Carlo,  when  George  told  her  about 
the  Winships,  and  how  they  had  lost  their  money, 
and  so  on,  I  could  see  that  she  was  very  much  distressed. 
It  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  come  face  to  face  with 
the  idea  that  if  one  man  grows  rich  it  often  happens  that 
another  must  grow  poor.  It  rather  pained  her.  I 
tried  to  show  her  that,  with  just  so  much  money  in  the 
world,  if  wealth  flows  very  much  into  one  pocket,  it 
has  to  ebb  a  good  deal  from  another." 

"What's  that  got  to  do  with  it  ?"  Trafford  demanded. 

"It  gave  her  a  more  reasonable  idea  of  business.  It 
helped  her  to  see  that  the  Winships  might  lose  their 
property,  and  that  you  might  get  it,  and  yet  that  the 

162 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

fault  might  be  none  of  yours.  What  she  felt  was  pity — 
nothing  more,  and  nothing  less.  You  see,  Uncle  Traf- 
ford,"  she  continued,  edging  her  chair  a  little  nearer 
the  desk,  "Paula  is  more  a  child  than  a  woman.  It 
wouldn't  be  possible  for  any  one  to  live  here  on  earth 
and  keep  a  soul  more  spotless  from  the  things  that  the 
rest  of  us  have  to  know  and  understand.  She  isn't  a 
man  of  business,  like  you  and  George.  She  isn't  even 
a  woman  of  business,  like  Aunt  Trafford  and  me.  She 
doesn't  reason  like  the  rest  of  us.  She  can't.  The  fact 
is,  her  nature  is  limited;  any  one  can  see  it  who's  ever 
lived  with  her.  There  are  just  three  things  of  which 
she's  capable:  love  for  what's  good,  pity  for  what's 
suffering,  and  pardon  for  what's  wrong." 

"That's  so,"  George  corroborated,  strongly. 

"Yes,  it  is,"  Mrs.  Trafford  added,  with  a  heavy  sigh. 
"It's  true,  every  word  of  it,  even  if  I  am  her  mother." 

"Look  here,  Laura,"  Trafford  said,  coldly,  "if  your 
game  is  to  work  on  my  sympathies — " 

"  Oh,  but  it  isn't.  I'm  only  trying  to  point  out  to  you 
the  way  she  reasoned — the  way  that,  with  her  limitations, 
she  had  to  reason.  She  saw  that  the  Winships  were 
poor  and  that  we  were  rich.  She  knew  they  had  suf- 
fered. She  had  a  confused  idea  as  to  how  it  had  come 
about.  It  wasn't  possible  for  her  to  think  it  out,  as  we 
should.  She  saw  only  that  we  could  come  to  their 
rescue,  and  put  them  back  into  something  like  the  posi- 
tion they  had  held  before.  The  impulse  to  do  it  was  as 
natural  with  her  as  to  want  to  heal  them  if  they'd  been 
sick.  We  talked  it  over  together,  and  I — " 

163 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"  Sent  her  to  marry  him,"  Trafford  interrupted,  with 
a  grim  laugh. 

"I  advised  her  to  help  them,"  Laura  went  on,  im- 
perturbably,  "but  to  do  it  on  some  such  lines  as  you 
would  approve  of,  Uncle  Trafford." 

"God!"  Trafford  ejaculated,  with  an  impatient  fling- 
ing out  of  the  hands. 

"  I  remembered  how  good  you  were  to  those  old  Miss 
Marshalls  in  Turtonville,  Wisconsin — " 

"Stop!"  Trafford  thundered. 

"I  can't  stop,  Uncle  Trafford.  I've  got  to  justify 
myself.  I've  got  to  justify  Paula.  As  far  as  I  can,  I've 
got  to  justify  you.  So,  when  you  spoke  to  me  about 
the  Miss  Marshalls,  I  did  all  I  could  to  carry  out  your 
wish.  That  is  to  say,  I  kept  them  regularly  supplied 
with  work,  and  saw  that  they  were  able  to  earn  a  com- 
fortable income.  I  told  you  about  it,  and  you  were 
pleased.  When  it  came  to  the  similar  case  of  the 
Winships,  what  more  natural  than  that  I  should  follow 
the  line  that  you  yourself  had  commended  ?" 

"The  situation  was  different.  You  should  have 
foreseen  the  catastrophe." 

"How  could  I,  Uncle  Trafford?  It  was  no  more 
possible  than  for  you  to  foresee  that  old  Mr.  Marshall 
would  shoot  himself." 

"How  can  you!"  Mrs.  Trafford  protested,  while 
George  tried  to  silence  his  wife  with  significant  looks. 

"Go  on,"  Trafford  said,  quietly.  He  was  not  the 
man  to  let  any  one  see  that  Laura's  shot  had  carried. 

"I  suggested  the  portrait,"  Laura  continued,  in  the 
164 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

same  calm  tones,  "not  only  as  a  means  of  helping  the 
Winships  as  a  matter  of  generosity,  but  also  to  divert 
Paula's  mind  from  any  larger  or  wilder  projects.  In 
that  I  didn't  succeed.  I  saw  all  winter  that  I  wasn't 
succeeding,  but  I  hoped  her  ideas  would  die  out  with 
time.  They  haven't.  That's  perfectly  plain.  And 
since  that's  the  case,  I,  for  one,  dear  Uncle  Trafford, 
cannot  see  what  good  will  ever  come  of  fighting  her. 
You  can't  fight  Paula's  instinct,  not  any  more  than  you 
could  fight  the  Spirit  of  Spring.  Our  worldly  weapons 
have  no  force  against  it.  You'll  excuse  me,  dear  Uncle 
Trafford,  won't  you — but  if  I  might  advise — " 

"You'd  give  in  ?"  he  asked,  hoarsely. 

"I'd  humor  her.  If  we'd  done  that  at  first  this 
thing  might  never  have  happened.  It  mayn't  be  too 
late  now." 

"When  you  say  humor  her,"  Traffbrd  demanded, 
slowly,  leaning  on  the  desk  and  fixing  Laura  with  his 
penetrating  stare,  "do  I  understand  you  to  suggest 
giving  a  large  sum  of  money  to  the  Winships,  in  what 
might  be  called  restitution  ?" 

"I  mean  the  large  sum  of  money;  I  shouldn't  care 
what  they  called  it.  It's  only  the  strong  who  can  dare 
to  eat  humble-pie,  and  I  suggest  that  we  should  do  it. 
The  money,  of  course,  is  nothing;  and  for  people  in  our 
position,  I  should  think  the  interpretation  given  to  the 
act  need  count  for  very  little." 

"Hmph!"  Traffbrd  snorted,  springing  to  his  feet; 
"just  as  it  counts  for  very  little  to  a  general  whether  the 
world  looks  on  him  as  victorious  or  defeated." 

165 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"There  are  different  kinds  of  victory,  Uncle  Trafford. 
You  who've  gained  so  many  on  one  field  could  easily 
afford  to  win  them  on  another." 

He  took  two  or  three  paces  up  and  down  the  room.  It 
was  evident  to  them  all  that  he  was  in  a  state  of  great 
agitation.  In  the  many  years  of  their  married  life, 
Mrs.  Trafford  had  never  seen  him  so.  The  poor  lady 
pressed  alternately  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes  and 
her  vinaigrette  to  her  nostrils.  George  stared  at  Laura, 
in  mingled  surprise  and  admiration  at  her  audacity. 
It  was  not  the  first  time  he  had  seen  advice  proffered 
to  Paul  Trafford,  but  he  had  never  seen  it  endured  so 
long,  or  carried  so  far. 

"You  don't  know  what  you're  saying,"  Trafford 
flung  out  at  last.  "  In  the  eyes  of  the  whole  world,  I 
should  seem  to  be  climbing  down.  It  couldn't  be  kept 
quiet.  The  press  would  ring  with  it." 

"I  shouldn't  care  for  that,"  Laura  responded,  in  her 
gentlest  way,  "if  it  was  to  save  my  child." 

He  stopped  abruptly  before  her,  his  feet  planted 
apart,  and  his  hands  thrust  deep  into  his  pockets. 

"Would  it?"  he  demanded,  fiercely. 

Laura  looked  up  at  him  with  fr,ank  eyes. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  replied.  "It  would  depend  on 
how  far  it's  gone.  It  might.  I  should  even  think  it 
probable.  At  any  rate,  I  should  try." 

Turning  on  his  heel,  he  walked  to  the  mantel-piece, 
and  stood  with  his  back  towards  them.  When  he  re- 
mained silent,  they  made  signs  to  each  other,  and  slipped 
away. 

166 


CHAPTER   XV 

AT  dinner  Paula  wore  the  black-and-green  dress  in 
which  Winship  had  painted  her.  The  detail  was 
lost  on  Trafford  and  George,  but  Mrs.  Trafford  and 
Laura  exchanged  comprehending  glances.  Laura  man- 
aged to  call  her  husband's  attention  to  the  fact,  but 
the  father  saw  only  that  the  dark  setting  brought  out 
the  rose  tints  of  the  girl's  complexion,  and  increased  the 
blueness  of  her  eyes.  She  had  even  hung  round  her 
neck  the  string  of  pearls  which,  in  the  portrait,  she  was 
drawing  from  the  small  gold  coffer  at  her  side. 

The  meal  passed  in  some  constraint.  Trafford  ate 
with  his  eyes  on  his  plate,  or  crumbled  his  bread  with  a 
nervous  movement  of  the  fingers.  Mrs.  Trafford  was 
too  ill  to  eat  at  all.  She  had  only  appeared  at  table  in 
the  hope,  as  she  said,  of  "carrying  things  off."  The 
three  others  made  feeble  efforts  to  talk,  Paula  avoiding 
her  father's  eyes.  When  her  mother  rose,  she  escaped 
again  to  her  room. 

"Don't  wait  for  me,  if  you  want  to  join  the  ladies," 
Trafford  said  to  his  nephew,  when  they  had  smoked 
awhile  in  silence. 

George  understood  the  hint,  and  withdrew  to  the 
small  salon  the  family  were  in  the  habit  of  using  when 

167 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

they  spent  the  evening  alone.  His  aunt  and  Laura  were 
already  there,  sitting  as  if  in  expectation. 

Left  to  himself,  Trafford  sat  staring  vacantly  at  the 
flowers  and  crystal  on  the  table.  His  cigar  went  out, 
as  his  arm  fell  limply  over  the  back  of  his  chair.  He 
was  not  thinking  actively,  nor  trying  to  make  plans. 
His  inward  sight  was  fixed  on  a  little  black  heap,  fallen 
on  the  floor,  while  two  blue  eyes  were  lifted  appealingly 
to  his.  They  haunted  him.  Their  expression  became 
confused  in  his  mind  with  the  unspeakable  look  of  a 
fallen  Christ,  in  a  picture  of  Vandyck's  he  had  seen  in 
a  church  in  Antwerp.  His  lips  twitched,  his  eyelids 
quivered. 

"My  little  girl,"  he  muttered  to  himself.  "I  struck 
her  down.  It's  come  to  that!" 

Again  he  stared,  as  if  without  sight  and  without 
thought.  It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  he  rose,  and 
passed  into  the  salon,  where  the  two  ladies  and  George 
were  sitting  in  silence.  He  went  straight  to  the  bell 
and  rang  it. 

"Ask  Miss  Paula  to  come  here,"  he  said  to  the  ser- 
vant who  appeared. 

He  took  a  seat  and  waited.  In  a  few  minutes  she 
came.  She  stood  on  the  threshold,  without  advancing 
into  the  room.  He  had  again  the  impression  that  her 
color  was  very  radiant  and  her  eyes  strangely  blue.  He 
had  another  impression,  impossible  to  define — the  feel- 
ing that  his  little  girl  was  no  longer  near  him,  but  gazing 
at  him  across  some  mysterious  flood.  He  waited  for 
her  to  come  into  the  room,  but  as  she  did  not,  he  spoke. 

168 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Paula,  my  child,"  he  began,  as  gently  as  he  could, 
"since  this  afternoon  I've  reflected.  You  can't  be  un- 
aware that  what  you  told  us  in  the  gallery  has  been  a 
great  blow  to  me,  a  great  shock." 

"I  thought  it  might  be  a  shock,  papa,  at  first;  I  didn't 
know  it  would  ever  prove  a  blow." 

"It  has  done  so,  already.  I  can  say,  without  melo- 
dramatic exaggeration,  that  it's  one  which  neither  your 
mother  nor  I  can  ever  get  over." 

"Oh,  mamma,  darling,  I  didn't  think  that  possible." 

Her  voice  trembled,  but  she  took  no  step  to  advance 
into  the  room.  Mrs.  Traffbrd  pressed  her  handkerchief 
to  her  eyes,  and  said  nothing. 

"I  want  to  do  you  justice,  dear,"  Trafford  went  on, 
"and  I  want  you  to  be  just  to  me.  We  must  be  sym- 
pathetic with  each  other — " 

"More  than  that,"  she  interposed. 

"Yes,  more  than  that.  It  isn't  possible  for  you  and 
me  to  have  any  wish  more  sacred  than  to  insure  each 
other's  happiness,  is  it  ?" 

"Not  for  me,  papa." 

"I  thought  so.  And  you  must  know  that  it's  equally 
impossible  for  me.  I  don't  have  to  tell  you  that  you're 
all  I  have.  Other  fathers  love  their  daughters;  I  know 
that,  of  course.  But  I  don't  think  many  of  them  do  as 
I  love  mine.  Come  into  the  room,  dear.  Don't  stand 
away  from  me.  Come  and  kiss  me." 

Moving  forward  very  slowly,  she  bent  and  kissed  him. 
He  drew  her  to  him,  and  she  sank  on  the  floor  beside  his 
chair. 

169 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Oh,  papa!  Oh,  papa!"  she  murmured,  throwing 
her  arms  about  his  neck. 

"There,-  there,"  he  whispered,  soothingly.  "I'm 
sure  we  shall  understand  each  other." 

She  rose  again,  and  took  a  seat.  She  sat  directly 
facing  him,  the  three  others  ranged  behind  his  chair. 

"I've  been  trying  to  comprehend,"  he  began  again, 
"just  how  it  was  you  felt  called  upon  to  take  the  step 
you  announced  to  us  to-day.  I  think  I  see  it.  I 
needn't  explain,  for  I'm  sure  you  follow  me.  I  don't 
say  that  you're  wholly  right.  That's  something  we 
should  both  find  difficult  to  discuss.  But  since  you  feel 
as  you  do,  I'm  ready  to  go  as  far  as  I  can  to  meet  you." 

She  clasped  her  hands  tightly  in  her  lap,  looking  at 
him  with  parted  lips  and  eyes  glowing. 

"To  the  young  man  we  saw  to-day,"  he  continued, 
speaking  very  deliberately,  "  I'm  ready  to  give  a  large 
sum  of  money.  It  shall  be  as  large  as  you  like.  I  un- 
derstand there's  been  some  mention  made  of  a  million 
dollars.  I  should  be  willing  to  make  it  that." 

"Oh,  papa,  how  good  you  are!" 

"I  should  settle  it  on  his  sister  and  him,  in  equal  pro- 
portions, as  I  believe  the  mother  is  dead.  It  could  be 
called  restoration  or  restitution,  or  anything  else  they 
chose.  By  the  press  and  the  public  and  the  pulpit,  it 
would  be  called  conscience-money.  I  should  be  looked 
upon  as  a  penitent  thief." 

She  started  from  her  chair  with  a  protesting  exclama- 
tion; but  he  waved  her  back. 

"Let  me  go  on,  dear.  Let  me  show  you  how  much 
170 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

I'm  willing  to  do  for  you — I  will  even  say,  to  suffer  for 
you.  You've  known  something,  in  a  vague  way,  of  the 
fight  I've  had  to  make,  but  you've  only  seen  the  favor- 
able side  of  it.  You've  known  me  as  victorious,  but 
you've  never  known  how  often  I've  been  wounded. 
Nobody  has.  I've  kept  that  as  much  as  possible  to 
myself  I'm  looked  upon  as  a  man  too  hard  to  be  hurt 
by  the  cannonade  of  popular  hatred  and  abuse;  but  it 
isn't  so.  I've  borne  it  in  silence,  and  I've  lived  through 
it.  To  a  certain  extent  I've  lived  it  down.  The  men 
who  couldn't  beat  me  don't  hate  me  less,  but  I've  got 
beyond  reach  of  their  powder.  That's  all.  Now,  in 
what  I'm  ready  to  do  at  your  request,  I  should  be  putting 
myself  again  within  their  range.  I  should  be  doing  more 
than  that:  I  should  be  offering  myself  as  a  target.  I 
shouldn't  be  spared  their  shots — nor  you,  nor  any  of  us. 
I  told  you  once  that  I  wanted  my  little  girl  to  be  protect- 
ed from  that;  but,  of  course,  we  should  have  to  let  such 
considerations  go." 

"  But,  dear  papa,  why  should  any  one  ever  know  ?" 
He  smiled  faintly,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 
"You  must  go  to  the  press  to  find  that  out,  dear. 
I'm  not  in  their  confidence  half  as  much  as  they're  in 
mine,  and  I  know  something  of  their  secrets,  too.  How 
did  the  New  York  papers  announce  the  probability 
of  your  marriage  to  the  Duke  of  Wiltshire,  with  day  and 
date  for  our  movements  and  his,  just  a  week  after  the 
first  mention  of  the  subject  privately  among  ourselves  ? 
I  don't  know,  any  more  than  you.  But  this  I  do  know 
— that  within  ten  days  of  the  transference  of  property 

171 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

of  which  we've  been  speaking,  the  news  will  be  in  every 
paper  in  the  United  States.  I  know,  too,  just  how  it 
will  be  interpreted.  I  can't  express  it  better  than  I 
have  done — that  I  shall  be  looked  upon  as  a  penitent 
thief.  I  shall  be  abused  for  the  theft  and  ridiculed  for 
the  penitence.  I  shall  be  considered  as  a  man  whose 
mind  has  become  enfeebled  in  his  declining  years.  It 
will  be  the  end  of  my  career,  but — " 

"Then,  papa,  darling,  I  don't  want  you  to  do  it. 
I  didn't  see  it  in  that  light." 

"No,  dear,  of  course  not.  How  should  you?  But 
I  want  to  do  it.  I've  considered  it  well,  and  I'd  rather 
do  it.  For,  when  I've  made  this  sacrifice  for  you,  you 
won't  be  unwilling  to  make  one  for  me,  will  you 
darling  ?" 

"What  sacrifice?"  she  faltered. 

"You'd  give  this  man  up." 

"Oh,  but  I  love  him!" 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  accent  of  the  cry.  It 
came  from  her  because  she  could  not  help  it.  It  fell 
on  the  stillness  with  the  strangeness  of  a  sacred  avowal 
flung  out  on  the  common  air.  It  was  followed  by  a 
hush.  A  long  minute  passed  before  Traffbrd  spoke 
again. 

"But  you  don't  love  him  better  than  me  ?"  he  asked, 
softly,  leaning  forward,  with  his  strong  eyes  bent  upon 
her. 

"Not  better,  papa  —  differently,"  she  managed  to 
stammer,  her  cheeks  flaming  now,  as  if  with  sudden 
shame. 

172 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"You  wouldn't  give  me  up  for  him  ?" 

"I  couldn't  give  you  up  at  all." 

"But  if  the  choice  lay  between  him  and  me?" 

She  sat  with  eyes  downcast,  and  made  no  answer. 

"What  then  ?"  Trafford  persisted,  softly. 

Again  she  made  no  answer.  Laura  leaned  forward, 
and  whispered  in  his  ear. 

"Dear  Uncle  Trafford,  do  you  think  it  wise  to  ask 
her  these  questions  now  ?" 

He  waved  her  back,  and  kept  on. 

"If  the  choice  lay  between  him  and  me,  Paula,  dear? 
What  then  ?  After  the  way  we've  loved  you,  after  all 
we've  done  for  you,  after  the  happy  years  together, 
would  you  go  away  with  this  stranger — my  enemy — 
and  leave  your  mother  and  me  alone  ?" 

"He  isn't  your  enemy,  papa,"  she  declared,  seizing 
the  one  point  on  Vrhich  she  was  able  to  reply. 

"I  must  judge  of  that.  But  would  you  go  with  him  ? 
That's  what  I'm  asking.  Your  mother  is  ill,  and  I'm 
growing  old.  You're  all  we  have — all  God  has  left  with 
us.  Would  you  desert  us  for  a  man  you  didn't  even 
know  a  year  ago  ?" 

She  raised  her  burning  face  to  him  again. 

"Oh,  papa,  how  can  I  answer  you  ?  How  can  you 
bear  to  torture  me  like  this  ?  Surely  you  know  what 
love  is! — not  such  love  as  yours  and  mine,  but  the  love 
of  man  and  woman.  If  you  don't  know  it,  the  others 
must.  Mamma,  I  appeal  to  you.  Laura,  I  appeal  to 
you.  You  know  what  a  woman's  heart  is  when  it's 
given  to  the  one  man  to  whom  it  can  ever  go  out.  You 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

know  that  I  can't  say  anything.  You  know  that  I  can't 
answer  him.  Help  me.  Protect  me.  You're  women 
like  myself.  Mamma!  Mamma!" 

She  ended  with  a  little  cry. 

"Yes,  dear.     I'm  here." 

Mrs.  Trafford  bustled  forward  with  a  sob.  Paula 
sprang  to  meet  her,  and  mother  and  daughter  were 
clasped  in  each  other's  arms. 

"That  spoils  it,"  Trafford  commented,  turning 
wearily  to  Laura.  "There's  no  dealing  with  argument 
like  that," 

A  half-hour  later,  as  he  was  lighting  a  cigar  in  his 
office,  Mrs. Trafford  stole  in.  She  was  pale  and  trembling. 

"I've  got  her  to  bed,"  she  said,  with  some  hesitation. 
"She'll  be  quieter  now.  She's  been  terribly  unnerved, 
poor  lamb." 

He  stood  with  his  foot  on  the  fender,  and  neither 
answered  nor  turned  round. 

"It's  my  fault,  Paul,"  she  began,  weakly. 

"So  we  understood,"  he  flung  over  his  shoulder. 
"Why  return  to  the  point  again  ?" 

"Because  I  want  you  to  forgive  me,  Paul." 

"What's  forgiveness  got  to  do  with  it?  Forgiveness 
won't  give  me  my  daughter  back." 

"She's  my  daughter,  too,  Paul.  You  seem  to  forget 
that." 

"Oh  no,  I  don't.  The  fact  that  she  is  your  daughter 
is  my  only  possible  excuse  for  leaving  her  in  your  in- 
competent care." 

174 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Oh,  Paul!  After  all  the  years  that  we've  been 
married  you  say  that  to  me!" 

"Good-night,"  he  returned,  still  over  his  shoulder. 

"I'm  very  ill,  Paul — "  she  began,  once  more. 

"You  won't  get  any  better  by  standing  in  this  cold 
room." 

'  You  don't  know  how  ill  I  am.  I've  never  told  you, 
Paul.  I  beseech  you — "  she  went  on,  brokenly. 

"I'm  tired,"  he  said,  leaning  heavily  on  the  mantel- 
piece. "I  really  think  we'd  better  say  good-night." 

She  turned,  slowly,  and  left  him.  He  heard  her  go 
half-way  up  the  stairs,  and  come  down  to  his  door  again. 
She  stood  a  minute,  but,  as  he  made  no  sign,  she  turned 
heavily  away  once  more. 

He  listened  without  moving  till  her  door  closed  be- 
hind her.  Then  he  flung  himself  into  an  arm-chair  and 
smoked.  He  smoked  on  and  on,  while  the  clock  on  the 
mantel-piece  chimed  off  the  hours.  His  mind  worked 
back  to  the  past  and  forward  to  the  future.'  He  lived 
through  again  the  old  days  of  strife,  and  drew  comfort 
from  the  thought  of  his  huge  successes  and  his  many 
victories.  By  degrees  his  pain  and  anger  died  down 
together.  The  longing  for  the  love  and  tenderness  of 
his  own  home  came  back  to  him. 

"After  all,  she's  been  a  good  wife  to  me,"  he  muttered 
to  himself,  reproachfully.  "I'm  a  brute  to  treat  her 
so — and  I'm  a  brute  to  my  little  girl." 

The  early  June  dawn  was  breaking  when  he'  rose  to 
go  up-stairs.  The  house  was  very  quiet,  and  he  went 
on  tiptoe  past  his  wife's  door,  for  fear  of  waking  her. 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

"Suppose  I  do  wake  her,"  he  thought,  suddenly, 
"wake  her  with  a  kiss.  It  will  please  her." 

He  turned  the  handle  and  entered  softly.  A  faint 
light  was  stealing  in.  He  went  to  the  bedside  and  bent 
over.  But  when  his  lips  touched  hers,  he  knew  that  she 
would  never  wake  again. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

IT  was  natural  that  during  the  fortnight  following 
upon  Mrs.  Trafford's  death  Paula's  more  personal 
affairs  should  recede  to  the  background.  Trafford's 
grief  for  his  wife  was  deep  and  sincere — all  the  more 
so  from  the  circumstances  in  which  she  had  died.  The 
mere  mention  of  Winship's  name  would  have  been  an 
intrusion  upon  sorrow. 

But  as  the  days  went  by,  and  life  seemed  to  resume 
its  normal  routine,  it  became  impossible  to  ignore  the 
fact  that  such  a  subject  could  not  be  forgotten.  There 
was  an  uneasy  sense  of  it  in  the  minds  of  all.  The  very 
reticence  with  which  some  themes  were  avoided,  the 
very  skill  by  which  others  were  touched  upon  with  tact, 
heightened  the  perception  that  it  was  among  them,  like 
an  invisible  presence,  at  all  times  when  they  came  to- 
gether. If  Paula  and  her  father  were  alone  they  kept 
silence — a  guarded,  conscious  silence,  in  which  the  only 
spontaneous  element  was  the  dread  of  what  might 
follow  upon  speech.  Their  affection  for  each  other  was 
not  diminished;  it  was  only  changed  by  the  loss  of  the 
old,  clear  strain  of  confidence.  They  were  falling  into 
that  painful  mutual  attitude  in  which  each  looks  for  the 
other's  move.  Trafford's  lack  of  action  was  diplomatic; 

177 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

he  had  lived  through  many  occasions  in  which  he  had 
learned  the  advantage  of  just  this  kind  of  waiting. 
Paula  was  dumb  only  because  she  did  not  know  what 
to  say. 

When  Trafford  spoke  at  last,  it  was  for  the  reason 
that  he  thought  he  had  found  his  way.  He  had  en- 
tered Paula's  boudoir  one  morning  on  some  unimportant 
errand  connected  with  the  day's  domestic  affairs. 

"And,  by-the-way,"  he  said,  casually,  as  he  turned  to 
leave  her,  "how  long  will  it  take  you  to  close  up  this 
house  ?  I  have  important  business  that  will  require  our 
going  to  America." 

For  a  few  seconds  she  made  no  response,  but  it  seemed 
to  Trafford  as  if  her  slight,  black-robed  figure  became 
more  erect  against  the  tints  of  white  and  rose  and  gold 
which  formed  the  background. 

"Then  we  shouldn't  go  to  Versailles,"  she  said,  when 
she  had  found  voice.  "We  should  be  away  all  sum- 
mer." 

"Oh  yes;   longer,  in  all  probability." 

"All  winter,  too?" 

"Well,  I  meant  indefinitely." 

"And  not  live  in  this  house  any  more?" 

"It  isn't  necessary  to  say  as  much  as  that.  We  can 
close  it,  and  leave  it  with  the  caretakers.  If  ever  we 
want  to  come  back  to  it,  we  can.  It  was  your  poor 
mother's  idea  more  than  mine,  from  the  very  first. 
Now  that  she's  no  longer  with  us — " 

"Are  you  doing  this  with  the  object  of  separating  me 
from  Mr.  Winship,  papa  ?" 

178 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Trafford  was  not  expecting  a  question  so  direct.  He 
turned  fully  round  and  confronted  her. 

"  I  thought  it  might  have  that  effect,"  he  said,  quietly. 

"It  wouldn't,"  she  replied,  in  a  tone  like  his  own. 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  wouldn't  come  with  me  ?" 

"Oh  no,  papa.  Of  course  I  should  go  with  you.  But 
it  wouldn't  separate  me  from  him.  Nothing  would. 
Nothing  ever  will." 

"I  suppose  you  know  it's  painful  to  me  to  hear  you 
talk  like  that  ?" 

"  But  you  make  me  do  it,  papa.  You  force  me  to  say 
the  things  on  which  any  other  girl  is  able  to  keep  silent. 
I  only  do  it  to  make  you  understand." 

"Understand  what?" 

"That  I  love  him — that  I  shall  always  love  him — 
even  if  I  were  never  to  see  him  again — even  if  I  were  to 
marry  some  one  else.  I  should  belong  to  him.  I  be- 
long to  him  already.  I've  given  him  not  only  my  heart, 
but  my  word.  I've  given  it  and  repeated  it.  I  ought 
to  tell  you,  papa,  that  I've  seen  him  again,  since — that 
day." 

"Where?" 

"  In  the  same  place — for  a  few  minutes  only." 

"Clandestinely?" 

"That  isn't  a  word  that  should  be  applied  to  me,  papa. 
It  was  an  accident.  I  didn't  stay,  even  though  he  had 
something  to  explain  to  me.  I  wouldn't  even  let  him 
write  to  me  without  your  knowledge.  And  yet  I  feel 
free  to  see  him,  if  I  choose." 

"Even  though  it  be  against  my  command  ?" 
179 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"I  don't  think  I  ought  to  be  subjected  to  command 
on  such  a  point." 

"You'll  allow,  perhaps,  that  I  have  some  claim." 

"And  that  I  have  some  right." 

"What  right?" 

"The  right  of  the  human  being  to  love,  where  there 
is  no  impediment.  I  don't  ask  for  anything  strange  or 
astonishing.  I'm  only  begging  for  the  use  of  an  in- 
alienable privilege." 

"You  mean  the  privilege  to  marry  when  and  where 
and  how  you  choose,  without  regard  to  those  who've 
loved  you  and  cared  for  you,  and  who  are  as  much 
concerned  in  the  act  as  you  are.  I  never  expected  you, 
dear,  to  blind  yourself  with  that  sort  of  sophistry." 

"You  put  me  in  a  very  hard  position,  papa.  You 
give  me  the  choice  between  two  courses.  I  may  marry 
him,  and  displease  you;  or  I  may  give  him  up,  and 
break  my  heart.  Which  would  you  do  if  you  were  in 
my  place  ?" 

"There's  one  thing  I  shouldn't  do.  I  shouldn't  ally 
myself  with  a  man  who  could  never  stand  towards  my 
own  father  otherwise  than  with  a  drawn  sword  in  his 
hand." 

"I'm  sure  he  doesn't,  papa." 

"And  I  know  he  does.  I  take  it  for  granted  that  the 
man  is  neither  a  coward  nor  a  fool.  You'll  allow,  per- 
haps, that  I  have  some  acquaintance  with  human  nat- 
ure. I  know  his  type  and  I  know  his  breed.  He  can't 
have  inherited  any  other  feeling  towards  me  than  one  of 
revenge.  Mind  you,  I  don't  say  that  I  blame  him 

1 80 


THE  GIANTS   STRENGTH 

much,  not  any  more  than  I  should  blame  the  serpent 
who  bites  with  poison." 

"Oh,  please,  don't  say  things  like  that." 
"I'm  warning  you,  Paula,  dear.  I'm  no  novice  at 
this  life.  I've  foreseen  so  much  that  has  come  true 
that  I  can  trust  my  own  guess  against  another  man's 
experience.  You  don't  know  what  you're  doing,  but 
I  can  show  you.  You're  only  a  little  girl,  innocent 
and  good,  and  yet  you're  rousing  the  passions  that  sleep 
but  never  die — just  as  a  princess  may  press  a  button 
and  start  up  a  system  of  machinery  of  which  she  has 
neither  knowledge  nor  control.  I  warn  you.  Have 
anything  more  to  do  with  this  man,  and  the  struggle 
ceases  to  be  between  you  and  me;  it  passes  to  me  and 
him;  and  it  will  last  till  one  or  other  of  us  is  alone  on  the 
field  with  the  victory." 

"  But  is  there  no  such  thing  as  forgiveness,  papa  ?" 
"No — not  among  men — not  in  business.     There,  it 
isn't  even  the  eye  for  the  eye  and  the  tooth  for  the  tooth; 
it's  the  trick  in  the  dark,  or  the  stab  in  the  back,  or 
any  other  means  that  commends  itself.     Forgiveness 
has  no  more  place  in  that  world  than  nectar  and  am- 
brosia have  in  this.     You  can't  fight  with  balms  on  the 
field  of  battle,  and  your  lover  and  I  shouldn't  choose 
the  weapons  that  hurt  least — " 
"Ah,  but  why  fight  at  all?" 

"Do  you  think  that  if  I  stayed  my  hand  he  would 
stay  his  ?  Not  a  bit.  I  might  have  my  arms  bound  to 
my  side,  and  he'd  have  at  me  none  the  less.  If  you 
married  him,  that  would  be  my  position.  You  may  be 

181 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

sure  I  shouldn't  strike  at  your  husband.  I  should  stand 
still  and  let  him  strike  at  me.  He'd  do  it,  mind  you,  if 
he's  a  Winship;  he'd  do  it,  and  he'd  keep  it  up,  till  I  was 
riddled  like  St.  Sebastian.  I'm  not  at  the  beginning 
of  my  experience  of  the  Winship  relentlessness.  I  told 
you,  on  the  very  night  your  dear  mother  died,  how 
many  wounds  I  had  carried  out  of  the  big  war  I've  had 
to  wage.  None  were  so  deadly  as  those  which  came 
from  just  that  quarter,  and  their  shots  have  never  ceased. 
If  they  don't  fire  them  still,  there  are  others  who  do. 
There  are  others  who  make  use  of  the  Winship  defeat 
to  beg  for  public  sympathy  in  their  own;  and  they  get  it. 
You've  only  to  look  through  the  newspapers  and  maga- 
zines to  see  it.  I  could  afford  to  laugh  them  to  scorn,  if 
it  were  not  for  one  simple  fact.  The  chain  can't  be 
stronger  than  its  weakest  link;  so  I'm  weak,  dear  Paula, 
in  everything  that  touches  you." 

"Papa,  you  wrong  him.  Do  believe  me.  I  know 
him  so  well.  All  that  is  as  much  blotted  out  for  him  as 
if  it  had  never  been.  It  isn't  as  though  he  had  had  any 
actual  share  in  the  trouble.  He  hadn't — not  any  more 
than  I.  And  he's  so  good — so  noble!  If  you'd  only  be 
willing  to  see  him,  to  get  to  know  him,  to  let  him  know 
you,  then  you'd  be  as  sure  of  that  as  I  am.  He  doesn't 
care  anything  for  money,  or  for  the  strife  about  money. 
I  thought  that  strange,  at  first,  until  I  began  to  see  that 
the  things  he  lives  for  are  higher  than — " 

"Than  those  I've  lived  for.  Be  it  so.  You're  ar- 
guing beside  the  mark,  dear.  The  great  fact  remains 
that  one  of  us,  you  or  I,  must  yield — and,"  he  added, 

182 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

fixing  her  with  one  of  his  strong  looks,  "I've  never 
yielded." 

Turning  slowly  away,  she  walked  to  a  window  and 
gazed  down  for  a  minute  on  the  trees  and  traffic  of  the 
Avenue  du  Bois.  When  she  confronted  him  again  her 
own  look  was  as  strong  as  his. 

"  I'd  yield,  papa,  if  I  thought  it  was  right." 

"And  don't  you?" 

"You  make  it  so  hard  for  me  to  see." 

"Surely  I  put  it  plainly  enough." 

"It  isn't  that  I  don't  see  what  you  mean;  it's  that 
you  give  me  such  a  terrible  alternative.  I  must  sacri- 
fice either  him  or  you — " 

"Or  yourself." 

"I  don't  count  myself.  If  I  could  only  satisfy  both 
your  claims  and  his  I  should  be  willing  to  suffer  any- 
thing." 

Trafford  winced  at  the  words,  but  maintained  his 
ground. 

"He  has  no  claims." 

"Oh  yes,  he  has,  papa.     He  loves  me." 

"Wiltshire  loved  you,  too.  That  didn't  give  him  a 
right." 

"But  I  didn't  love  the  Duke,  and  I  do  love  Roger 
Winship.  I  know  it's  wrong  on  my  part,  but  I  could 
see  the  one  suffer  with  only  a  passing  pang,  while,  if  I 
withdraw  my  word  from  the  other,  it  will  be  like  plung- 
ing a  sword  not  only  into  his  heart  but  into  my  own." 

"Then  it's  possible  that  you  should  withdraw  your 
word  ?" 

183 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Anything  would  be  possible  that  was  right." 

"And  you'd  have  the  strength  to  do  it?" 

"  I  should  have  to  have  the  strength  if  I  had  the  con- 
viction. I  couldn't  go  on  in  a  course  I  thought  wrong, 
whatever  happiness  it  might  bring." 

"That's  a  brave  girl." 

"But,  oh,  papa,  I  can't  see  it  yet.     I  can't  promise." 

"Not  yet,  dear,  perhaps,"  he  said,  coaxingly,  "but 
you  could  take  it  into  consideration,  couldn't  you  ? 
You  could  think  about  it  as  a  probability — " 

"No — not  a  probability." 

"Well,  then,  a  possibility.  In  any  case,  we  could  go 
to  America,  and  stay  there  awhile,  and  then  we'd — 
see." 

"If  you  mean  that  I  might  come, in  time, to  think  less 
about  him,  and  give  him  up  more  easily — that  couldn't 
be." 

"  But  you  could  give  him  up — that's  the  main  thing. 
Mind  you,  I  don't  say  you  would  have  to,  but  if  it  came 
to  the  point — " 

"I  might  have  the  courage,  papa.  I  don't  know. 
It's  like  asking  me  if  I  should  have  the  strength  to  die. 
One  can,  if  one  has  to  do  it.  And,  after  all,  I  don't  care 
what  happens  to  me,  so  long  as  you're  pleased — and  are 
saved  from  being  wounded  again — and  we  can  all  see 
our  way  to  doing  what  is  right — and — " 

But  Traffbrd  turned  sharply  away,  leaving  her  with 
the  words  dying  on  her  lips  and  the  brave  look  still 
shining  in  her  eyes. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

"  OHE  disarms  me,"  Trafford  said,  when  he  recounted 

O  the  interview  to  Mrs.  George,  later  in  the  day. 

Since  his  wife's  death  he  had  come  to  depend  a  good 
deal  on  Laura.  Her  little  sitting-room  offered  him  a 
refuge  in  times  of  loneliness,  while  the  common-sense  of 
her  conversation  was  a  relief  from  the  strain  that  life  had 
lately  taken  on. 

"I  can  understand  that,"  Laura  returned,  looking  up 
from  her  stitching.  "All  her  instincts  are  so  right  that 
one  feels  placed  in  the  wrong,  whether  one  is  wrong  or 
not.  But  there  are  two  things  of  which  I  am  more  and 
more  convinced  as  I  grow  older.  The  one  is,  that  noth- 
ing is  more  precious  in  life  than  the  love  and  peace  of 
families.  And  the  other  is  this,  that  to  preserve  them 
it  must  happen  from  time  to  time  that  some  one  has  to 
yield,  and,  perhaps,  to  suffer." 

"Exactly,"  Trafford  agreed,  warmly.  "I  can't  save 
her  from  suffering,  can  I  ?  God  knows  I  would,  if  I 
could." 

"  I'm  sure  of  that,  dear  Uncle  Trafford.  One  can't 
have  a  child  of  one's  own  without  knowing  that  in 
everything  it  has  to  bear  one  suffers  twice  one's  self." 

"Twice  ?  I  suffer  twenty  times.  Since  this  thing  has 
13  185 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

happened  to  my  little  girl  there's  nothing  she  feels  that 
isn't  multiplied  in  me,  over  and  over  again,  like  a  re- 
flection in  double  mirrors.  I  give  you  my  word,  Laura, 
that  I  rack  my  brains  to  explain  why  the  one  event  in  all 
the  world  that  could  have  hurt  me  most  should  have 
come  upon  me.  It  almost  carries  me  back  to  the  belief 
in  a  God  who  occupies  Himself  with  the  details  of  our 
affairs  and  brings  the  moral  consequences  of  our  acts 
upon  us;  and  I'd  given  up  that  idea  long  ago." 

"I  often  think,"  Laura  observed,  in  her  musing  tone, 
"that  it's  easier  to  suffer  one's  self  than  to  see  some  one 
we  love  have  to  do  it." 

"Quite  so.  Quite  so.  You  can  see  that  in  Paula. 
That's  the  way  she  feels.  My  God!  she's  a  brick  if 
ever  there  was  one.  She'd  take  everything  on  herself, 
if  she  could.  But  she  can't." 

"No,  of  course  not,"  Laura  said,  quickly.  "It's 
only  the  very  strong  who  can  do  that.  I  don't  suppose 
any  woman  is  capable  of  vicarious  suffering,  and  there 
must  be  very  few  men." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  Trafford  questioned, 
in  the  slightest  tone  of  pique." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  what  I  mean,"  Laura  smiled, 
frankly.  "  If  I  mean  anything,  it  is  that  there  must  be 
here  and  there  a  man  strong  enough  to  take  the  cause  of 
suffering  from  others,  by  bearing  all  the  pain  himself." 

"Hmph!"  Trafford  ejaculated. 

He  was  not  used  to  the  suggestion  that  there  were 
men  in  the  world  stronger  than  himself. 

"Of  course,  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,"  Laura 
186 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

admitted.     "One  only  feels  in  that  way  about  one's 
child." 

"You  can  protect  your  child,"  Trafford  argued,  "as 
long  as  it  will  follow  you.  Then  you  keep  it  to  the  line 
of  your  own  defences.  The  minute  it  goes  outside,  into 
a  course  of  its  own,  you  have  no  more  power." 

"Do  you  know,  dear  Uncle  Trafford,"  Laura  said, 
"I'm  beginning  to  think  that  just  as,  at  first,  our  chil- 
dren's happiness  depends  on  following  us,  so,  later,  our 
happiness  depends  on  following  them  ?" 

"What  do  you  mean  by  following  them?" 

"I  mean  recognizing  the  fact  that  they  become  in- 
dependent entities,  with  independent  rights.  I  mean 
acknowledging  their  rights  with  frankness  and  sym- 
pathy, and  keeping  as  close  to  them  as  possible,  what- 
ever they  may  do." 

"And  suppose  they  do  what  you  don't  approve  of?" 

"I  admit  that's  the  hard  part.  I  have  to  take  for 
granted  that  the  parent  is  the  wiser  and  the  stronger 
and  the  more  able  to  endure." 

"That's  all  very  fine!  But,  now,  to  take  an  extreme 
illustration:  suppose  your  little  Paul  were  to  grow  up 
and  go  to  the  bad  ?  Then  where  would  your  theories 
be?" 

"  He  couldn't  go  so  far  to  the  bad  that  I  shouldn't  be 
as  near  to  him  as  I  could,  offering  him  at  least  the  help 
that  came  from  my  love." 

"Suppose  he  did  worse  ?  Suppose  he  were  to  marry 
— well,  say  a  chorus-girl,  or  something  of  that  sort  ? 
What  then  ?" 

187 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"I  don't  mean  to  say  that  I  shouldn't  be  sorry;  but  I 
should  do  my  best  to  take  her  as  my  daughter,  as  he 
would  remain  my  son." 

"I  don't  believe  you  could  do  it." 

"Very  likely  I  couldn't,  but  I  should  try.  You  see,  I 
feel  so  strongly  on  the  question  of  personal  inde- 
pendence." 

"  But  you  can't  leave  much  personal  independence  if 
you're  going  to  preserve  the  love  and  peace  of  families, 
of  which  you  speak." 

"Oh,  don't  you  think  so?  It  seems  to  me  just  the 
other  way.  I've  often  thought  that  most  of  the  domestic 
misery  I  ever  heard  of  came  from  the  fact  that  the  people 
who  had  to  live  together  didn't  know  where  to  draw  the 
line  between  what  they  could  claim  and  what  they 
couldn't  claim  from  each  other.  A  family  isn't  an  au- 
tocracy, is  it,  uncle,  dear?  It's  rather  a  federation  of 
states,  in  which  each  member  keeps  its  sovereign  rights. 
There  never  can  be  love  and  peace  unless  those  rights 
are  freely  recognized." 

"It  strikes  me  that  you're  arguing  rather  queerly," 
Traffbrd  commented,  after  a  short  pause.  "It  almost 
seems  to  me  as  if  you  were  telling  me  I  oughtn't  to  in- 
terfere between  Paula  and  this  young  man." 

"Oh,  Uncle  Trafford!" 

"Well,  it  does." 

She  let  her  sewing  fall  into  her  lap,  and  looked  at  him 
with  those  candid  gray  eyes,  behind  which  no  one  could 
see  the  shrewdness. 

"You  mustn't  attach  any  importance  to  what  I  say," 
188 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

she  avowed,  humbly.  "You  see,  I'm  only  a  woman. 
I  couldn't  judge  like  you,  even  if  I  had  the  penetration. 
I  suppose  every  woman  gives  love  and  happiness  a 
higher  place  in  her  scheme  of  things  than  she  ever 
ought  to.  It  takes  a  man  to  see  that  there  are  more 
important  elements  in  life." 

"Such  as— what?" 

"Well — let  me  see! — such  as  ambition — and  success 
— and  wealth — and  pride — and — " 

"If  you  put  those  things  before  love  and  happiness, 
my  girl,  you're  very  much  mistaken." 

"I  shouldn't,  because  I'm  a  woman.  But  I  thought 
men  did." 

"The  young  and  the  bumptious  and  the  feeble  some- 
times do — not  men  who've  done  my  work  or  lived  to 
my  age." 

"Still,  we  women  have  a  simpler  idea  of  happiness 
than  you.  It's  less  complex,  and  goes  more  directly  to 
its  point.  I  don't  suppose,"  she  added,  with  a  depre- 
ciatory smile,  "that  there's  anything  more  serious  to  it 
than  just  the  old,  instinctive  wish  that  those  who  love 
each  other  should — get  married." 

"Hmph!" 

"Oh,  I'm  not  arguing,  dear  Uncle  Traffbrd.  I'm 
only  excusing  myself.  You  see,  we're  not  without  cer- 
tain successful  examples  right  in  our  own  household,  are 
we  ?  Dear  Aunt  Traffbrd  has  told  me  so  often  how 
opposed  her  family  were  when  she  married  you." 

"Pooh!  They  didn't  keep  that  up  very  long.  They 
know  now  where  they  would  have  been  if — " 

189 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Yes,  and  it's  just  that  which  gives  me  this  foolish, 
feminine  conviction  that  the  heart  is  the  surest  of  all 
guides.  And  then  I  have  my  own  marriage.  Oh,  I 
know  very  well  that  you  were  all  a  little — perhaps  only 
a  little,  but  still  a  little — disappointed  when  George 
married  me.  Now  that  it's  all  over,  and  you've  been 
so  good  to  me,  I  don't  mind  confessing  that  I  lived 
through  several  months  of  great  unhappiness,  for  fear 
you'd  take  him  from  me.  If  you  had,  there's  no  use  de- 
nying that  there  would  have  been  one  more  embittered 
old  maid  in  the  world,  and  George  wouldn't  have  been 
so  happy,  either." 

"Nor  any  of  us,  my  girl — I  can  tell  you  that.  If  we 
were  a  little  staggered  before  we  knew  you,  we  re- 
covered ourselves  easily  enough  when  we  did." 

"And  so,  when  I  think  of  Paula — "      She  hesitated. 

"Well— what?     Speak  up." 

"I  can't  keep  myself  from  wishing  that  she  might  be 
as  happy  as  Aunt  Trafford  was  with  the  man  she  loved, 
and  as  I've  been  with  George." 

"The  cases  are  different,"  Trafford  jerked  out, 
dryly. 

"  Oh  yes,  I  know  that.  It  seems  a  pity,  too;  because 
they  say  he's  such  a  fine  fellow,  and  sure  to  make  a  great 
name  for  himself." 

"How  do  we  know  that  ?" 

"Well,  I  suppose  we  don't,  except  from  such  people 
as  Lady  Alice  and  the  Duke,  who've  been  his  friends 
nearly  all  his  life.  As  for  his  ability — the  newspapers 
have  witnessed  to  it  abundantly.  Then,  too,"  she 

190 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

mused  on,  "it  would  create  a  great  revolution  of  feeling 
at  home,  though  you  wouldn't  care  anything  about  that. 
Just  as  you've  been  indifferent  to  slander,  you'd  be 
equally  so  to  applause." 

"Applause — how  ?" 

"Don't  you  see  that  it  would  be  looked  upon  as  so 
splendid  and  superior  and  American,  that  your  daughter, 
who's  had  dukes  and  princes  at  her  feet,  should  choose 
to  marry  a  poor  man — not  only  one  of  our  own  country- 
men, but  the  son  of  one  of  your  defeated  enemies  ? 
Of  course,  it  would  mean  nothing  to  you,  but  we  weak 
women  of  the  family  couldn't  but  rejoice  that  the  world 
should  see  you  in  your  true  light — in  your  simplicity 
and  generosity,  and  in  your  great  sense  of  the  true 
responsibility  of  wealth.  Your  traducers  would  be 
obliged  to  stop  their  attacks,  for  there'd  be  no  more 
powder  in  their  magazine.  I  don't  know  anything  about 
it,  Uncle  Trafford.  That's  only  the  way  I  feel." 

"Ah,  well!"  he  sighed.     "Ah,  well!" 

He  rose  and  took  two  or  three  strides  up  and  down 
the  room. 

"Ah,  well!"  he  sighed  again.  "I  don't  mind  ad- 
mitting to  you,  Laura,  that  I'm  miserable  about  the 
whole  business.  When  I  think  of  that  dear  child  crying 
her  brave  eyes  out,  perhaps  at  this  very  minute — " 

"Yes,  I  know,"  Laura  interrupted.  "Then  you'd 
make  any  sacrifice  to  save  her." 

She  felt  she  had  said  enough,  for  she,  too,  rose  and 
folded  her  work. 

"Won't  you  come  and  see  Paul  have  his  supper?" 
191 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

she  suggested.  She  knew  he  liked  to  see  the  boy  kick 
and  crow  and  splutter,  and  beat  with  his  spoon  on  the 
table. 

"No,  I  don't  believe  I  will,"  he  replied,  wearily.  "I 
seem  to  have  had  enough  of  children.  I  begin  to  wish 
the  Lord  had  never  made  them." 

"If  He  hadn't,  you'd  be  the  first  to  pray  Him  to  be- 
gin," she  smiled,  as  she  turned  at  the  door  to  leave 
him.  "You  know  better  than  I  do,  that  for  Paula's  sake 
you'd  throw  everything  you've  ever  won  to  the  winds." 

"I  suppose  that's  true,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  as 
he  went  along  the  corridor  to  his  office.  "I  suppose 
that's  true.  That  wife  of  George's  is  a  damned  clear- 
headed little  woman,  and  she  doesn't  know  it." 

Only  a  skilful  psychologist  could  have  followed  the 
evolution  of  Paul  Trafford's  thought  during  the  next 
forty-eight  hours.  Only  a  sympathetic  insight  could 
have  disentangled  the  strands  of  love  and  self-love,  of 
egoism  and  devotion,  of  passionate  affection  for  his 
child  and  of  impulse  to  make  one  more  appeal  to  the 
great,  easily  hoodwinked  public  to  indorse  him  as  a 
high-minded,  honorable  man. 

"Life  is  only  compromise,  after  all,"  was  one  text  on 
which  he  mused.  "She'd  go  wild  with  joy;  she'd  love 
me  more  than  ever,"  was  another.  "Laura  was  right: 
they  would  see  me  as  I  am — simple,  generous,  patriotic, 
caring  nothing  for  honors  or  a  big  name,  but  only  for 
sterling  worth.  They'd  come  to  understand  me  at 
last."  That  was  a  fruitful  theme  of  meditation.  "  Brave 

192 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

little  brick!  She  doesn't  care  what  happens  to  herself, 
so  long  as  I'm  pleased,  and  saved  from  being  wounded 
again.  God!  I'd  let  myself  be  stabbed  all  over  my 
body  rather  than  that  she  should  shed  another  tear." 
That  was  a  subject  on  which  he  could  dwell  only  with 
eyes  blinking.  "After  all,  I  may  be  wrong  to  distrust 
the  man.  He  may  be  less  of  a  Winship  than  the  rest 
of  the  lot.  The  old  lust  for  vengeance  may  have  died 
down,  by  this  time,  and  the  reign  of  common-sense  be- 
gun. Other  people  seem  to  speak  well  of  him.  Wilt- 
shire and  Lady  Alice  ought  to  know.  Who  can  tell  ? 
I  shouldn't  be  the  first  father  who  has  had  to  make  the 
best  of  his  daughter's  choice,  and  I  might  even  come  to 
like  him.  I'm  not  a  monster,  in  spite  of  all  they  say  of 
me."  From  these  reflections  he  took  what  comfort  he 
could. 

It  was  the  third  day  before  he  felt  convinced  that,  of 
all  the  chances  against  him,  he  was  accepting  the  least 
dangerous.  It  was  the  fourth  before  he  felt  sure 
enough  to  speak.  He  waited  till  evening,  till  the  mo- 
ment when  Paula  came  to  kiss  him  and  say  good-night. 
He  drew  her  to  him,  and  laughed  with  an  air  that  was 
almost  boyish  in  its  embarrassment. 

"I've  given  in,"  he  stammered.  "My  little  girl  is  to 
do  as  she  likes." 

She  slipped  from  his  embrace  and  fell  back  a  pace 
or  two. 

"I — I  don't  understand,  papa." 

"Don't  you?  Then  I'll  make  it  clearer.  I'm  a 
weak  and  beaten  and  foolish  old  man.  You'll  see  it," 

193 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

he  went  on,  unconsciously  quoting  Laura — "you'll  see  it 
when  I  tell  you  that  just  as  you're  my  daughter,  so  Roger 
Winship  shall  be  my  son." 

The  little  sob  with  which  she  threw  herself  into  his 
arms  again  was  one  of  natural  relief  in  the  thought  that 
the  long  strain  was  over. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

WINSHIP  had  finished  his  coffee,  in  the  long, 
red  studio,  before  Marah  brought  hers  and  sat 
down  beside  him.  Though  money  had  been  coming 
in  as  it  had  never  come  before,  they  had  made  no 
change  in  the  simple  habits  of  the  days  of  poverty. 
Going  to  and  fro  in  the  room,  Marah  observed  that 
her  brother  had  received  a  letter  which  he  read  and 
reread  with  unusual  absorption. 

"  Is  it  another  commission  ?"  she  asked,  as  she  took 
her  place. 

"No,"  he  answered,  absently,  still  pondering  the  page 
before  him. 

When  some  minutes  had  gone  by,  she  spoke  again. 

"It  isn't  anything  that  worries  you,  I  hope  ?" 

"Read,"  he  said,  briefly,  pushing  the  paper  towards 
her.  She  took  it  and  read: 

"  DEAR  MR.  WINSHIP, — A  great  bereavement  has  re- 
cently come  into  both  our  families.  Perhaps  nothing 
so  much  as  sorrow  teaches  us  the  true  value  of  the 
things  of  this  life.  Since  God  has  taken  my  dear  wife 
from  me,  I,  at  least,  have  come  to  see  many  things 
from  a  different  point  of  view.  I  am  sure  you  will  un- 
derstand what  I  mean  when  I  say  that  it  would  give 

195 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

great  pleasure  both  to  my  family  and  myself  to  meet 
Miss  Winship  and  you,  and  to  talk  over  matters  of  im- 
portance, which  must  be  discussed  between  us.  May 
I  ask,  then,  if  to-morrow  afternoon  at  three  would  suit 
your  convenience  to  come  to  my  house  in  the  Avenue 
du  Bois  de  Boulogne  ? — where,  as  I  have  already  said, 
we  shall  all  be  glad  to  see  you.  Believe  me,  dear  sir, 
"Yours  very  truly, 

"PAUL  TRAFFORD. 

"P.S. — I  beg  to  add  that  we  lay  particular  stress  on 
the  presence  of  Miss  Winship,  as  some  of  our  topics  of 
conversation  will  be  of  as  much  interest  to  her  as  to 
the  rest  of  us." 

The  brother  and  sister  looked  at  each  other  blankly. 

"What  does  this  mean  ?"  Marah  demanded  at 
last. 

"It  means  first  of  all  that  I  have  asked  Paula  Traf- 
ford  to  marry  me." 

"And  then?" 

"That  she's  consented." 

"And  then?" 

"That  they've  all  consented." 

"And  then?" 

"And  then,"  he  cried,  springing  up,  with  a  harsh 
laugh — "then  it  means  that  the  day  has  come  to  which 
we've  looked  forward  so  long-^-when  we  can  say  to  each 
other,  as  Deborah  said  to  Barak,  'Up!  for  the  Lord 
hath  delivered  him  into  your  hands."' 

"I  don't  understand  you.  How  has  He  delivered 
him  ?" 

196 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Come  and  see." 

"Vety  well.     I'll  go." 

No  more  was  said :  the  subject  was  difficult  to  speak 
of;  but  at  three  o'clock  they  presented  themselves  at  the 
door  of  the  great  house. 

Trafford  himself  met  them  at  the  foot  of  the  grand 
stairway.  Now  that  this  step  was  definitely  decided  on, 
he  felt  the  satisfaction  by  which  he  was  always  thrilled 
in  playing  the  benefactor  or  god  from  the  machine. 
With  a  large  share  of  the  sentiment  characteristic  of 
the  American  man  of  business  in  his  softer  moods,  he 
had  a  distinct  enjoyment  of  generosity — especially  his 
own.  He  came  forward  with  dignified  cordiality,  and 
held  out  his  hand.  Winship  took  it  with  a  certain 
gravity.  Marah  stood  in  the  background,  her  eyes 
sparkling  like  two  electric  lamps. 

"You're  very  good  to  have  come,"  Traffbrd  said, 
in  his  kind  tone.  "I'm  sure  we  shall  all  be  glad  to 
know  one  another  better.  And  you,  too,  Miss  Win- 
ship." 

He  advanced  towards  Marah,  and  again  held  out 
his  hand.  She  allowed  hers  to  rest  limply  within  his 
grasp,  but  left  to  her  brother  the  task  of  finding  a 
reply. 

"The  kindness  of  your  letter  made  our  coming  im- 
perative," Winship  murmured,  politely. 

It  was  all  that  could  be  said  before  the  two  tall 
footmen,  and  Traffbrd  turned  to  lead  the  way  up- 
stairs. As  they  followed,  both  brother  and  sister 
were  impressed  by  the  magnificence  of  their  sur- 

197 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

roundings.  It  was  beyond  what  they  expected,  and 
recalled  to  the  imagination  a  bit  of  the  chateau  of 
Versailles  in  the  days  of  its  greatness.  Marah  felt 
herself  dwarfed  by  so  much  splendor,  and  it  required 
a  mental  effort  even  on  Winship's  part  to  lift  his  per- 
sonality above  it. 

"  I  want  you  to  know  my  nephew  and  niece,  George 
and  Laura,"  Trafford  said,  when  they  had  reached  the 
top  of  the  stairs.  "I  think  we  shall  have  our  little  talk, 
at  first,  without  the  presence  of  my  daughter." 

Winship  bowed,  and  TrafFord,  with  a  wave  of  the 
hand,  ushered  the  visitors  into  the  great  salon,  whose 
door  was  standing  open. 

It  was  an  awkward  moment,  especially  for  Marah, 
who  entered  first.  Her  little  figure  seemed  to  dwindle 
to  nothing,  in  the  vast  apartment,  where  every  object 
was  a  thing  of  art.  The  Louis  Seize  drawing-room  at 
Edenbridge  was  the  abode  of  gentry;  but  this  was  the 
dwelling-place  of  kings.  Once  inside  the  door,  she 
stood  timidly,  waiting  for  the  others  to  pass  in  and  take 
the  lead,  when  she  became  aware  of  a  small  lady,  in  a 
long,  black  train,  advancing,  with  out-stretched  hand, 
to  meet  her. 

"I  know  this  is  Miss  Winship,"  Laura  said,  cheerily. 
"Our  friend,  Lady  Alice  Holroyd,  has  spoken  of  you 
so  often.  And  Mr.  Winship,"  she  continued,  in  the 
same  easy  strain.  "This  is  my  husband,  George. 
Now  we  all  know  one  another,  don't  we  ?" 

George  shook  hands  with  the  Winships  in  tur/i,  say- 
ing, "How  do  you  do  ?"  to  each.  To  this  they  found  it 

198 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

a  relief  to  be  able  to  reply  with  the  same  non-committal 
formula. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Winship,"  Laura  rattled  on,  as  the  party 
moved  a  few  paces  towards  the  centre  of  the  room, 
"I  can't  tell  you  how  much  I  admire  your  portrait  of 
Paula.  I've  been  to  see  it  twice.  Everybody  says 
that  nothing  equal  to  it  has  appeared  in  the  Salon  during 
the  last  ten  years.  Now,  do  tell  me,"  she  pursued, 
eager  to  cover  up  the  first  few  trying  minutes,  "didn't 
you  paint  that  malachite  table  from  the  one  in  the 
Grand  Trianon  ?" 

"No,"  Winship  smiled,  "it's  one  I  had  the  chance  to 
sketch  in  the  Quirinal  Palace  in  Rome.  You  see,  I 
have  a  knack  with  marble  surfaces,  and  so,  when  I  get 
an  opportunity — " 

"Shall  we  sit  down  ?"  Trafford  asked,  offering  a  seat 
to  Marah. 

A  Buhl  table,  with  some  gilded  and  tapestried  arm- 
chairs about  it,  seemed  to  offer  a  rallying-point,  and 
presently  they  were  all  seated.  It  was  partly  accident, 
partly  instinctive  grouping,  that  placed  Winship  and 
Marah  together  on  one  side,  with  the  three  Traffords 
facing  them  on  the  other.  Laura  felt  that  her  power  of 
taking  the  lead  was  now  at  an  end.  There  were  a  few 
seconds  of  constraint  before  Trafford  spoke.  He  look- 
ed directly  at  Winship  and  Marah,  though  his  tone  was 
that  of  a  man  musing  aloud. 

"Our  meeting  of  this  afternoon  is  of  a  kind  that  must 
make  any  thoughtful  person  believe  in  the  directing 
finger  of  a  higher  Providence.  The  very  strongest  of 

199 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

us  must  be  subject  to  His  authority.  In  fact,  I  don't 
suppose  that  with  Him  there  are  such  things  as  strong 
or  weak  at  all.  We  are  simply  His  children,  fulfilling 
His  designs." 

This  opening  was  so  little  what  any  one  expected  that 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  accept  it  in  silence. 

"I  realize  that  the  more  fully  as  I  see  events 
shaping  themselves  better  than  I  could  have  di- 
rected them.  Yes,  I  confess  that  it  is  better.  I  ad- 
mit that  I  have  had  my  own  plans — plans  that  have 
been  very  near  my  heart.  But  now,  as  I  approach  my 
threescore  years  and  ten,  I  see  them  being  gently  taken 
from  my  hand,  and  others  offered  me  in  their  place. 
Very  well,  I  accept  them.  It  doesn't  take  much  re- 
flection to  see  that  an  old  man  is  better  occupied  in 
sowing  the  blessings  of  peace  than  in  continuing  the 
wars  of  his  youth.  Mr.  Winship,  I  believe  you  have 
asked  my  daughter  to  marry  you." 
"I  have." 

"And  that  she's  consented." 
"I've  understood  her  so." 

"Then  I,  too,  consent.  I  don't  pretend  that  I  can 
give  her  away  easily  to  any  man.  She's  more  than 
precious  in  my  sight.  But  I  realize  that  a  day  must 
come,  before  many  years  are  over,  when  she  will  need 
other  guardianship  than  mine;  and  where  can  she  find 
it  better  than  in  the  man  who  loves  her,  and  whom  she 
loves,  and  of  whom  every  one  speaks  well  ?" 

"I  can  only  say,"  Winship  murmured,  "that  to  me 
the  trust  will  be  a  sa/rred  one.  Her  very  sacrifice  in 

200 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

marrying  me  will  make  it  all  the  more  my  duty  to  see 
that  she  is  compassed  about  with — love." 

" I  like  that," Trafford  said,  warmly.  "Where  there's 
love,  care  and  sorrow  take  their  proper  and  subordinate 
place  in  the  scheme  of  things.  Mr.  Winship,  we're 
simple  people,  and  I'm  a  plain  man.  It  will  be  better 
for  us  all  if  I  speak  quite  frankly  and  without  re- 
serve." 

"That's  what  I  should  like,"  Winship  agreed. 

"We're  simple  people,  but  I  think  you'll  find  us  open- 
hearted  people.  We're  a  united  family,  and,  with  the 
necessary  crosses  such  as  fall  to  human  lots,  we've  been 
a  happy  family.  God  has  blessed  me,  even  though  He 
has  seen  fit  to  take  from  me  all  my  children  but  my  lit- 
tle youngest-born — and,  now,  her  mother,  too.  Still, 
He  has  blessed  me.  I  should  be  ungrateful  to  deny  the 
fact,  after  all  He  has  enabled  me  to  do.  And  just  as, 
in  my  dear  niece  here,  He  has  given  me,  as  it  were,  an- 
other daughter,  so  I  am  ready  to  see  in  you — an  only 
son." 

Winship  bowed,  and  Trafford  hurried  on. 

"You  see,  we  want  to  take  you  in  as  one  of  ourselves. 
I  want  you  to  feel  that  in  me  you  have  a  second  father. 
I  want  Miss  Winship  to  be  one  of  us  also;  and,"  he 
continued,  looking  directly  at  Marah,  with  an  encourag- 
ing smile,  "I've  taken  certain  steps  which  I  hope  will 
assure  her  of  my  unlimited  good-will." 

He  drew  a  small  memorandum-book  from  his 
pocket,  and  began  turning  its  pages.  Marah  sat  bolt 
upright,  with  the  rigidity  of  steel.  Her  snapping  eyes 

14  201 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

were  fixed  on  Traffbrd,  like  those  of  a  little  animal 
watching  its  minute  to  spring. 

"  It  would  be  idle  to  ignore  the  fact,"  Trafford  went 
on,  "that  it  isn't  the  first  time  our  interests  have  lain  in 
the  same  field,  even  though  it's  the  first  time  we  meet. 
And  yet  I  need  hardly  go  back  to  speak  of  the  past. 
I  consider  it  dead  and  buried.  I  want  to  erect  over  its 
ashes  to-day  a  monument  of  affection  and  peace.  I'm 
sure  you  will  understand  the  sentiments  by  which  I'm 
governed,  without  any  further  explanation  on  my  part, 
when  I  say,  my  dear  Miss  Winship,  that  I  beg  to  turn 
over  to  you,  now,  at  once,  securities  to  the  amount  of 
half  a  million  of  dollars." 

"Why?" 

The  laconic  directness  of  Marah's  question  had  a 
slightly  disconcerting  effect  on  Trafford's  benevolent 
placidity. 

"Surely  that's  self-evident,"  he  smiled,  in  gentle  re- 
sponse. "Your  brother  is  about  to  marry  my  daugh- 
ter. It  wouldn't  be  fitting — you'll  excuse  me  if  I  speak 
quite  plainly — it  wouldn't  be  quite  fitting  that  you 
should  remain  in  your  circumstances,  while  we  are  in 
ours." 

"They've  been  my  circumstances  for  over  twenty 
years,  Mr.  Trafford.  I've  battled  with  them  and 
borne  them.  I  shouldn't  be  myself,  now,  in  any 
others." 

"But  I  want  you  to  feel,"  Trafford  persisted,  "that 
there  will  no  longer  be  any  need  for  you  to  work — " 

"I'm   used   to  working,"  Marah  broke  in.     "I've 

202 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

worked  as  few  people  have  ever  done.  I've  worked  as 
I  never  expected  to  work  in  the  days  before — before 
you  came  into  our  lives,  Mr.  Traffbrd.  I  haven't  only 
toiled  and  pinched  and  scraped — I've  starved.  I've 
seen  my  mother  and  my  brother  starving.  I  was  only 
a  girl  not  older  than  your  daughter,  and  not  less  ten- 
derly nourished,  when  you,  with  your  merciless  hand, 
drove  me  out,  bewildered  and  penniless,  into  the  world, 
with  the  care  of  a  mother  and  a  little  lad  upon  me. 
Now  you  are  willing  to  erect  over  my  ruined  life  a 
monument  of  affection  and  peace.  I  thank  you,  but 
I  don't  want  it." 

"Dear  Miss  Winship,"  Traffbrd  said,  still  more 
gently,  "do  you  think  that  the  heart  of  a  general,  whose 
duty  it  is  to  ravage  some  fair  province,  doesn't  often 
bleed  for  those  whom  he  is  obliged  to  render  homeless  ? 
Business  and  war  are  alike,  in  that  neither  conquered 
nor  conqueror  escapes  without  a  wound." 

"Men  ruin  in  war  for  a  country Vsake;  they  rob  in 
business  for  their  own." 

"You're  using  hard  words,  Miss  Winship." 

"I'm  speaking  of  hard  things.  May  I  ask,  Mr. 
Trafford,  if  my  words  aren't  true  ?" 

"Perhaps,"  Traffbrd  said,  with  a  patient  smile,  "we 
should  be  in  danger  of  getting  into  an  abstract  dis- 
cussion, when  our  attention  should  be  fixed  on  a  par- 
ticular point.  I  repeat  that  I'm  glad  to  place  this 
money  at  your  disposal,  and  should  be  still  more  glad  to 
know  that  you  accepted  it." 

"I  couldn't  do  it.  I  should  feel  that  I  was  buying 
203 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

prosperity  at  the  cost  of  my  father's  life,  and  my 
mother's  twenty  years  of  want." 

"Then,"  Trafford  said,  losing  some  of  his  forced  air 
of  patience,  "I  see  that  this  part  of  our  discussion  is 
useless,  unless,"  he  added,  turning  to  Winship — "unless 
your  brother  can  persuade  you." 

"I  think  my  sister  is  quite  right,"  Winship  said,  quiet- 
ly, and  with  a  certain  air  of  detachment. 

The  three  Traffords  gave  a  simultaneous  start,  as  if 
from  a  slight  electric  shock. 

"You'll  pardon  me  if  I  don't  understand,"  TrafFord 
began,  rubbing  his  hand  across  his  brow.  "You  come 
here  to  marry  my  daughter — " 

"I  do." 

"And  you  uphold  your  sister  in  refusing  money  that 
you  yourself  are  willing  to  share — " 

"No!     I  never  said  so." 

"  But  what  ?     Upon  my  soul,  I  don't  follow  you." 

It  was  clear  that  TrafFord's  courteous  self-possession 
was  breaking  down. 

"My  position,"  Winship  said,  "needs  some  expla- 
nation." 

"  So  it  would  seem,"  TrafFord  assented,  dryly. 

"I've  tried  to  make  Miss  TrafFord  understand  from 
the  first,  that  in  marrying  me  she  would  be  sharing  a 
poor  man's  life." 

"Hmph!     I  doubt  if  she  took  that  detail  in." 

"I  think  it  quite  possible.  I've  never  had  any  real 
opportunity  to  place  the  matter  in  its  true  light  before 
her.  I've  had  almost  no  communication  with  her  since 

204 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

the  minute  she  promised  to  become  my  wife.  Without 
your  consent,  she  has  refused  to  see  me,  or  even  to  let 
me  write  to  her." 

"And  what  might  that  true  light  be  ?" 

"Only  that  I  wish  to  marry  her  for  herself,  and  for 
herself  alone.  If  she  comes  to  me,  it  will  have  to  be 
without — money." 

Trafford  drew  his  chair  closer  to  the  Buhl  table,  as 
though  to  diminish  the  distance  between  them,  and 
fixed  on  Winship  the  look  before  which  all  other  men 
had  quailed.  Winship,  too,  drew  up  his  chair,  and  re- 
turned the  gaze  with  quiet  steadiness. 

"You  wish  me  to  understand,  I  presume,"  TrafFord 
said,  speaking  slowly,  "that  your  motives  are  quite  dis- 
interested. I'll  do  you  the  justice  to  say  that  I  never 
questioned  them." 

"I  should  like  you  to  understand  a  little  more  than 
that,"  Winship  returned.  "But,  first,  may  I  explain 
that  the  present  situation  is  none  of  my  seeking  ?  Had 
I  seen  it  coming,  I  should  have  gone  out  of  my  way  to 
avoid  it.  There  seems  to  have  been  no  means  of  doing 
that.  Some  fatality,  or  some  destiny,  has  forced  it  on 
us  all.  If  I  had  been  given  my  choice,  the  last  woman 
in  the  world  whom  I  should  have  wished  to  marry  would 
have  been — a  child  of  yours." 

"You're  quite  right  to  be  frank,"  TrafFord  threw  in, 
with  a  touch  of  irony. 

"Thank  you.  I  shall  try  to  be  so.  May  I  go  on 
with  my  explanation  ?  It  wasn't  I  who  sought  Miss 
TrafFord  out,  neither  was  it  she  who  sought  me.  She 

205 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

was  impelled  towards  me  by  the  knowledge  that  you 
had  killed  my  father,  impoverished  my  mother,  and 
blasted  my  sister's  life," 

A  sound  came  from  George  like  the  low  growl  of  a 
dog.  Traffbrd  put  out  his  hand  to  repress  it. 

"Let  him  go  on,"  he  muttered.  "This  is  the  most 
remarkable  wooing  I  ever  heard  of." 

"Yes;  it  has  to  be,"  Winship  agreed.  "But  I  want 
to  put  things  in  a  way  which  will  admit  of  no  future 
doubt.  I  want  to  put  them  justly,  too.  So  when  I  say 
that  Miss  Traffbrd  knew  these  things  I  don't  mean 
that  she  was  able  to  formulate  them  to  herself  as  facts. 
She  was  only  convinced  of  them  in  her  inner  sense  of 
rectitude.  Her  love  and  loyalty  remain  with  you;  her 
verdict  and  her  sympathy  have  long  ago  gone  out  to  me 
and  mine.  Do  I  make  myself  clear  ?  I  repeat  that, 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  situation  that  you  yourself 
created,  your  daughter  and  I  would  probably  have 
passed  each  other  by  as  strangers." 

"And  since  you  haven't  done  that,"  Trafford  broke 
in,  impatiently,"  I'm  here  to  say  that  I'm  willing  to  make 
the  best  of  it.  You've  fallen  in  love  with  each  other,  as 
I  understand;  and  though  I  don't  look  upon  it  as  the 
most  brilliant  match  my  daughter  could  make,  I'm 
ready  to  swallow  my  own  disappointment  in  order  that 
she  should  be  as  happy  as  possible.  I'm  ready  to  make 
you  rich.  I'm  ready  to  make  your  sister  rich.  What's 
the  use  of  dragging  up  a  lot  of  unfortunate  rubbish  at 
the  very  minute  when  we  could  put  everything  right 
again  ?  If  it's  folly  to  kill  the  goose  that  lays  the  golden 

206 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

eggs,  it's  surely  criminal  to  strangle  the  poor  dove  that 
comes  with  the  olive-branch  of  peace." 

"  It  isn't  the  peace  I  object  to,  but  the  terms  of  the 
treaty." 

"My  God!     Don't  I  offer  you  enough  ?" 

"Yes;  too  much.  I  ask  only  for  your  daughter's 
hand,  empty  of  dower." 

"Look  here!  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  think 
of  marrying  my  child  and  supporting  her  out  of  your 
miserable  painter's  pittance  ?" 

"Since  you  choose  to  put  it  so — yes." 

"  Then  you're  mad.  It's  out  of  the  question.  It's  pre- 
posterous. She's  lived  like  a  princess  all  her  life.  She'd 
spend  in  a  day  all  that  you  could  give  her  in  a  year." 

"  I  think  not.  I  think  she'd  be  content  with  what  I 
could  offer  her." 

"  But,  for  the  love  of  Heaven,  why  should  she  ?  Here's 
money  to  squander,  money  to  throw  away,  money  to 
burn  up — " 

"  It's  money  I  couldn't  touch.  It's  money  I  couldn't 
allow  my  wife  to  touch.  It's  the  money  for  which  too 
many  widows  and  orphans  are  still  clamoring.  It's 
the  money  for  which  too  many  beggared  men  are  still 
cursing  the  sound  of  your  name.  It's  the  money  that 
came  when  old  Marshall,  of  Turtonville,  shot  himself, 
and  Rawson,  of  Fitchburg,  hanged  himself,  and  Brewer, 
of  Albany,  went  mad,  and  Bennett,  of  Cleveland,  be- 
came a  forger,  and  Jackson,  of  Ohio,  stabbed  your 
agent  and  got  penal  servitude  for  life,  and  Lewis,  of 
Philadelphia,  died  a  drunkard,  and  Barnes — " 

207 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"That's  enough!"  Trafford  cried,  sternly,  holding  up 
his  hand. 

"I  know  it's  enough,"  Winship  threw  back.  "I 
could  go  on  with  the  list  and  make  it  much  longer  with- 
out mentioning  my  own  father's  name.  But  that's 
enough.  You  can  finish  it,  no  doubt,  for  yourself. 
Such  names  are  not  easily  forgotten." 

Trafford  sprang  to  his  feet  and  strode  away  from 
the  group.  With  his  hands  behind  his  back  and  his 
head  bent,  he  took  two  or  three  paces  across  the  room. 
Marah  had  scarcely  changed  her  position  since  the  con- 
versation began.  Laura  sat  biting  her  lip  and  looking 
at  the  floor.  George,  grasping  the  arms  of  his  chair, 
was  like  a  bull-dog  held  in  leash  and  straining  to  spring 
at  the  man  opposite,  who  was,  apparently,  the  least 
concerned  among  them  all. 

Trafford  strode  back  to  the  group  again. 

"You're  a  clever  man,  Mr.  Winship,"  he  said,  tap- 
ping with  his  fingers  on  the  table.  "You're  an  ingen- 
ious man.  You've  had  a  blow  to  strike  at  me,  and 
you've  chosen  the  weapon  you  knew  to  be  the  sharpest." 

"I  didn't  choose  it,"  Winship  returned,  quietly.  "It 
came  into  my  hand." 

"But  you  know  how  it  cuts." 

"Yes,  I  do  know  that." 

"And  you  have  no  scruple  about  thrusting  the  blade 
in." 

"The  whole  world  has  learned  from  you,  Mr.  Traf- 
ford, that  scruples  belong  only  to  the  weak." 

"  I  see  what  you've  been  working  round  to,"  Trafford 
208 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

went  on,  musingly.     "  I  see  it  now.     I  see.     I  see.     I  see 
the  whole  game." 

"It  isn't  a  game,"  Winship  corrected — "it's  a  situa- 
tion." 

"It's  more  adroit  than  I  thought  at  first.  The  worst 
of  which  I  could  suspect  you  was  the  plan  of  marrying 
my  daughter  in  order  to  get  her  money.  That  would 
have  been  bitter  pill  enough  for  me.  That  ought  to 
have  given  you  an  ample  revenge.  But  this  is — what 
shall  I  say? — this  is  so  clever  as  to  be  nearly  dev- 
ilish." 

"  I  must  call  your  attention  again  to  the  fact  that  the 
circumstances  are  not  of  my  making,  but  your  own. 
I  didn't  seek  to  love  your  daughter.  I  must  say  again 
and  again  that  we  were  brought  together  in  consequence 
of  your  own  acts.  Now  that  I  do  love  her,  I  want  to 
marry  her.  That's  natural  enough.  But  I  can't  touch 
your  money.  No  honorable  man  could.  It's  blood- 
money.  But,  there  again,  if  that  knife  cuts  you,  it's 
one  of  your  own  forging,  not  of  mine.  It  isn't  the  first 
time  the  conquered  have  been  avenged  by  the  very 
cruelty  of  the  conquest.  lo  Victis  is  a  song  the  world 
has  heard  over  and  over  again." 

"Hmph!  Blood-money!  It's  blood  -  money,  is  it? 
And  you  want  my  child  to  say  so." 

"  I  want  her  to  be  true  to  what  I  know  are  already  her 
own  high  and  holy  convictions." 

"You  want  her  to  choose  between  you  and  me,  be- 
fore the  world.     Then,  by  God!   she  shall,"  he  cried, 
bringing  his  fist  down  upon  the  table. 
209 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

He  marched  to  the  end  of  the  long  room,  and  threw 
open  a  door. 

"Paula!"  he  called,  loudly.     "Paula,  come  here!" 

When  he  rejoined  the  group  he  was  very  pale.  In- 
stinctively they  all  rose  as  Paula  appeared  in  the 
doorway. 

For  an  instant  she  seemed  to  hesitate,  her  dark  figure 
framed  in  the  arch  of  white  and  gold.  Then  she  came 
forward  a  step  or  two,  and  paused,  then  a  step  or  two 
more,  and  paused.  She  seemed  doubtful  of  what  they 
expected  her  to  do.  They  could  see  that  her  eyes  were 
aglow,  her  cheeks  delicately  flushed,  and  her  lips  parted 
in  a  half-smile.  She  was  in  black,  with  a  row  of  black 
pearls  in  the  frill  around  her  throat. 

The  silence  and  immobility  with  which  the  group 
about  the  table  regarded  her  approach  soon  began  to 
bewilder  her.  She  looked  from  one  to  another  ques- 
tioningly,  and  her  smile  faded. 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked,  pausing  again  before  she 
had  quite  reached  them. 

"Paula,  my  child,"  Trafford  said,  "I've  given  my 
consent  to  your  marriage  with  Mr.  Winship,  and  I've 
not  withdrawn  it." 

The  half-smile  came  back.  Her  eyes  sought  Win- 
ship's;  then  the  droop  of  the  long,  black  lashes  hid  them 
again. 

"But  Mr.  Winship,"  Trafford  pursued,  "is  not  satis- 
fied with  my  consent.  He  asks  for  more.'* 

"No,  not  for  more,"  Winship  corrected.  "I  ask  for 
nothing." 

210 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Mr.  Winship  asks  for  so  little,  dear,  that  it  becomes 
significantly  much." 

"I  don't  understand  at  all,  papa." 

"Then  I'll  put  it  to  you  plainly.  Mr.  Winship  is 
ready  to  marry  you,  but  you  must  come  to  him  empty- 
handed." 

"I  shouldn't  care,"  she  said,  promptly.  "I  don't 
mind  about  the  money — not  at  all.  I  know  what  Roger 
means.  He  wants  every  one  to  see  that  it's  for  myself — 
not  for  anything  else." 

"That  isn't  quite  his  motive,  dear.  But  perhaps  he 
could  explain  it  better  than  I  can.  Will  you  be  good 
enough,"  he  added,  turning  to  Winship,  "to  tell  my 
daughter  why  it  is  that  you'd  shut  her  out  from  the 
provision  I've  worked  so  hard  to  save  for  her  ?" 

"If  Miss  Trafford  is  willing  to  make  the  sacrifice,  it 
seems  to  me  the  explanation  becomes  unnecessary." 

"I  don't  want  an  explanation,  papa — I  really  don't." 

"I  think  you'd  better  have  it,  none  the  less,"  Trafford 
insisted.  "  If  he  won't  give  it,  I  will.  Mr.  Winship  will 
not  touch  my  money,  nor  allow  you  to  touch  it,  because 
it's  blood-money." 

"  Oh,  don't,  papa,"  the  girl  pleaded.  "  Don't  tell  me." 

"I  must  tell  you,  dear.  The  time  has  come  when 
you've  got  to  make  a  choice — when  you've  got  to  decide 
between  my  enemies  and  me." 

"But  Roger  isn't  your  enemy!" 

"You'll  see.  He  wants  you  to  stand  forth  before  the 
world  and  declare  that,  in  your  opinion,  I  am  a  robber, 
an  assassin — " 

211 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"No,  no,"  Winship  cried.  " That's  not  fair.  That's 
not  what  I  ask  for.  I  ask  only  that  she  shall  come  to 
me  as  she  is,  without  money,  without  dower.  I'm  not 
trying  to  force  her  into  putting  any  construction  on  the 
act—" 

"And  I'm  not  splitting  hairs,"  Traffbrd  interrupted, 
scornfully.  "I'm  not  drawing  nice  philosophical  dis- 
tinctions. If  she  doesn't  put  a  construction  on  the  act, 
you  will,  and  the  world  will.  Paula,  darling,  he  wants 
you  to  refuse  my  money  because  it's  blood  -  money. 
Those  are  his  words.  He  wants  you  to  marry  him 
without  a  penny.  Then  every  one  will  be  able  to  say 
that  Paul  Trafford  must  be  what  his  enemies  and 
traducers  have  called  him,  because  his  own  daughter 
thinks  him  so." 

"Oh  no,  Roger,  you  don't  mean  that!" 

"He  means  more,  dearest.  He  means  that,  as  you 
are  all  I  have,  so  even  that  shall  be  taken  from  me." 

"But  I  couldn't  be!" 

"That's  for  you  to  decide,  dear — and  to  decide  now. 
He  knows  that  I  could  bear  up  against  the  world,  what- 
ever it  might  say,  whatever  it  might  be  led  to  believe. 
But  he  knows,  too,  that  what  I  couldn't  bear  up  against 
is  that  you  should  say, '  Papa,  I  can't  touch  your  money, 
I  can't  touch  your  hand,  because  they're  full  of  blood.' " 

"Roger,  I  wish  you'd  speak!"  she  pleaded.  "I  wish 
you'd  tell  me  yourself  what  it  all  means." 

"  How  can  I  tell  you  ?"  he  asked,  moving  towards  her 
with  hands  out-stretched,  as  if  in  petition.  "Can't  you 
guess  ?  Can't  you  see  ?  Don't  you  know  how  this 

212 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

stupendous  fortune  has  been  brought  together  ?  Don't 
you  know  that  it's  been  by  every  form  of  financial  jug- 
glery the  mind  has  been  able  to  invent  ?  Don't  you 
know  that  it's  been  by  ways  as  crooked  as  they  were 
cruel  ?  Don't  you  know  that  it's  been  by  a  system  of 
depredation  so  gigantic  that  even  the  common  opinion 
of  the  common  world  has  risen  in  revolt  against  it  ?" 

"You  lie!"  George  Trafford  shouted.  It  was  as  if 
the  bull-dog  had  torn  away  from  its  leash  and  sprung 
at  Winship's  throat. 

"Be  quiet,  George,"  Laura  begged. 

"Stand  back,"  Winship  said,  in  a  tone  of  authority. 
"I'm  here  to  explain  to  Miss  Trafford,  the  woman  I 
love,  and  who  loves  me.  I  lie,  do  I  ?  Then  why  have 
you  Traffords,  and  your  monopolies,  been  hunted  from 
court  to  court,  throughout  the  whole  land  of  America  ? 
Why  is  the  press  ringing  daily  with  your  name,  and 
calling  for  justice  against  you  ?  Why  have  you  been 
driven  to  every  legal  shift  in  order  to  dodge,  or  twist,  or 
circumvent  the  law  ?  Why  have  you  spent  millions  to 
buy  up  clever  men,  to  corrupt  politicians,  to  bribe  a 
press,  and  to  purchase  a  little  public  that  might  stand 
by  you  ?  You  have  no  friends  but  paid  friends,  and  no 
standing  except  among  those  who  are  overawed  by  the 
brutality  of  your  power.  Even  so,  no  one  knows  better 
than  yourselves  that  that  power  will  not  stand  a  day 
when  once  the  moral  wits  of  the  people  are  awakened; 
no  one  knows  better  than  yourselves  that  the  very 
sycophants  of  your  success  will  be  the  first  to  rejoice  in 
your  downfall.  And  yet  you — a  Trafford! — dare  to 

213 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

tell  me  that  I  lie!  Dear  Paula,"  he  went  on,  in  another 
tone,  turning  again  to  the  girl,  who  stood  listening  with 
white  face  and  terrified  eyes — "dear  Paula,  I'm  saying 
nothing  new.  It's  only  what's  notorious  to  the  world. 
You're  the  only  person,  perhaps,  on  earth  who  doesn't 
know  it  all.  If  it  had  been  possible  to  keep  it  from  you, 
I  should  have  done  it.  But  it  isn't  possible.  Sooner  or 
later  you  must  have  learned  it.  Don't  you  understand, 
then,  that  when  I  see  you  in  the  midst  of  all  this  " — he 
threw  out  his  arms  with  a  wide  gesture — "it's  as  if  I 
saw  you  living  in,  clothed  in,  the  ruin  of  beggared  men 
and  hungry  women  and  children  ?  When  I  see  you  in 
your  splendor,  your  pearls  are  to  me  like  their  tears, 
your  rubies  like  their  sweat  of  blood.  I  can't  bear  it. 
I  can't  bear  it.  It's  like  desecration.  It's  like  sacrilege. 
I  must  take  you  out  of  it.  Oh,  come  away — come 
away!" 

"And  leave  my  father?" 

"You  needn't  leave  him.  You  need  only  leave — 
all  this." 

"Is  there  no  way  by  which  love  could  make  some — 
some  reconciliation  ?" 

"None." 

"Then,  papa,"  she  said,  in  a  dull  tone,  "I'm  your 
daughter.  If  I  have  to  make  the  choice,  it  must  be  you." 

She  moved  across  the  room  to  his  side,  slipping  her 
arm  into  his. 

Winship  raised  his  hands  again,  with  their  petitioning 
gesture,  but,  before  the  look  of  pathetic  reproach  in  her 
eyes,  he  let  them  fall  again. 

214 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Paula,"  Trafford  said,  in  a  voice  that  shook  a  little, 
"I've  let  this  man  speak.  You've  heard  him  to  the  end. 
Now  tell  him  that  you  believe  in  me.  Tell  him  that  his 
charges  have  failed." 

"Oh,  papa,"  she  returned,  wearily,  "how  can  it 
matter  what  I  say?  I'm  so  tired  of  it  all.  I  give 
him  up;  I'm  going  to  stay  with  you.  Isn't  that 
enough  ?" 

Winship  could  see,  as  he  had  seen  once  before,  the 
ashen  hue  steal  over  Trafford's  face. 

"Yes,  dear,"  he  murmured,  dropping  his  daughter's 
hand.  "I  suppose  it  is  enough.  It  will  have  to  be." 

There  was  a  minute's  pause,  and  then  a  simultaneous 
movement.  The  Winships  were  going  away.  Paula 
gave  a  little  start,  as  of  one  awakening. 

"Couldn't  we  be  alone  together?"  she  begged,  look- 
ing round  among  them  all — "just  for  a  minute  ?" 

It  was  Laura  who,  somehow,  got  them  from  the  room. 
Winship  and  Paula  stood,  confronting  each  other.  He 
remained  at  a  distance,  looking  at  her  with  burning 
eyes. 

"Roger!"  she  faltered — "Roger!  Would  it  be  useless 
to  make  one  more  appeal  to  you  ?  Must  our  love  end 
like  this?" 

"Our  love  doesn't  end.     Our  love  can't  end." 

"  But  all  the  rest  of  it — all  our  happiness  ?  Is  it  to 
be  flung  away  for  this  ?  How  could  you  expect  me  to 
turn  my  back  upon  my  father  ?  It  would  kill  him." 

"Oh,  Paula,"  he  said,  coming  towards  her,  "I  didn't 
ask  for  that.  Don't  turn  your  back  on  him.  Love 

215 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

him  always,  as  you've  loved  him,  only  come  to  me.  Re- 
nounce all  this,  that's  so  unworthy  of  you,  and  come  to 
me  without — the  money." 

"I  can't,  Roger.  Don't  you  see  that  I  can't  ?  What- 
ever the  money  is,  even  if  it's  all  you  say,  I  can't  separate 
myself  from  it  now.  It's  bound  up  with  my  father,  and 
I'm  bound  up  with  him.  I've  got  to  carry  the  weight 
of  it.  It  seems  to  me  that  if  you  loved  me,  you'd  come 
and  help  me  bear  it." 

"You've  only  to  think  of  what  that  would  mean,  to 
see  how  impossible  it  would  be.  You  and  I  living  to- 
gether in  splendid  luxury  on — " 

"No,  don't,"  she  cried.  "Don't  say  it  again.  Once 
has  seared  the  words  right  into  my  heart.  I  shall  al- 
ways feel  them  burning  there.  Then,  Roger,  if  you 
can't,"  she  added,  hopelessly,  "there's  nothing  for  us 
but  to  part.  I  must  go  my  way  with  my  father,  even 
though  I  fall  in  it.  God  will  help  me,  perhaps,  to 
stumble  on.  I  must  leave  you  now.  I  can't  stay — it's 
killing  me.  Good-bye — good-bye." 

She  held  out  her  hand.  He  dropped  on  his  knee, 
and  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 

Almost  before  he  had  risen,  he  found  himself  alone. 

It  was  a  dreary  little  party  that  assembled  in  the 
small  family  salon  that  evening  before  dinner.  Laura's 
eyes  were  red;  George  tried  to  hide  himself  behind  his 
paper;  Trafford  turned  his  back  on  them,  pretending  to 
look  down  at  the  stream  of  carriages  coming  from  the 
Bois.  In  the  condition  of  nervous  tension  to  which 

216 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

they  were  all  wrought  up,  a  little  scream  from  Laura 
was  enough  to  make  them  start. 

"For  pity's  sake  1"  she  cried.  "Paula,  are  you 
crazy  ?" 

Paula  stood  in  the  doorway.  She  was  dressed  in 
some  shimmering  stuff,  like  tissue  of  gold.  On  her 
head  she  wore  the  high,  round,  diamond  crown  her 
mother  had  bequeathed  her;  a  collar  of  rubies  was 
clasped  about  her  throat;  a  girdle  of  diamonds  and 
rubies  encircled  her  waist;  diamonds  and  rubies  were 
on  her  arms;  while  round  her  neck  she  had  the  rows 
upon  rows  of  the  famous  Trafford  pearls.  Her  rose- 
like  color  was  bright,  her  eyes  shone,  and  she  smiled 
valiantly. 

"My  God,  what  a  vision  !"  Trafford  muttered,  under 
his  breath,  as  he  watched  her  from  the  embrasure  of  the 
window. 

"Well,  you  have  rigged  yourself  up  !"  George  com- 
mented, looking  up  at  her,  over  his  paper,  with  a  sort 
of  savage  reproach.  "What's  the  idea  ?" 

"Really,  Paula,"  Laura  protested,  "I  don't  think 
you  ought  to — " 

"Let  her  alone,"  Trafford  commanded,  striding  for- 
ward. "I  know  what  she  means;  don't  I,  dear?" 

"I  hope  so,  papa,"  she  smiled,  as  she  let  him  take  her 
into  his  arms,  "because  it's  my  profession  of  faith.  I 
wear  them  because  they're  your  gifts." 

She  came  into  the  room,  and  the  conversation  turned 
on  the  degree  to  which  the  jewels  suited  her.  The 
commonplace  topic  relieved  the  strain,  and  the  evening 
is  217 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

passed  in  a  sort  of  artificial  cheerfulness.  It  was  not 
till  they  were  parting  for  the  night  that  Laura  found  the 
moment  for  a  private  word  with  her. 

"I  wouldn't  force  myself,  if  I  were  you,  dear,"  she 
advised. 

"I  have  to,"  Paula  replied,  with  arms  uplifted  in  the 
act  of  taking  off  her  crown.  "I  couldn't  do  it  without 
forcing  myself.  But  I  shall  be  equal  to  it,  Laura.  I'm 
not  afraid  of  breaking  down.  Only  you  must  help  me. 
You  must  laugh  when  I  do,  and  we  must  both  talk 
brightly.  I  want  papa  to  think  I've  done  it  easily.  If 
he  doesn't,  he'll  be  unhappy,  and  everything  will  be  in 
vain." 

"God  bless  you,  dear,"  Laura  murmured,  as  she 
kissed  her.  "God  bless  you,  and  bless  you  again." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

PAUL  TRAFFORD  stood  at  a  window  of  that 
house  which  no  changes  have  been  able  to  dis- 
sociate from  the  memory  of  La  Pa'iva.  It  was  the 
middle  of  September,  and  he  was  thinking  idly  that  the 
increased  stir  in  the  Champs-Elysees  showed  already 
that  the  dispersed  forces  of  Paris  were  beginning  to 
concentrate  again.  From  mountains,  sea-shore,  and 
chateaux;  from  Asia,  America,  and  the  antipodes  of  the 
world,  the  great,  beautiful  city  was  drawing  new  re- 
sources for  the  endless  tragic  comedy  that  makes  up  her 
life.  The  curtain  was  rising  on  a  season  in  which  the 
events  would  be  as  different  as  the  fashions  from  those 
of  last  year.  What  were  they  to  be  ?  In  every  nerve 
of  Paris  there  was  that  sense  of  awakening  curiosity 
which  is  simultaneous  with  the  moment  when  the 
chestnuts  put  forth  a  few  fresh,  green  leaves  among  the 
brown,  and  here  and  there  a  flower.  The  slanting 
autumn  sunshine  was  rich  with  the  desire  that  is  more 
earthly,  more  passionate,  and  more  essential  to  the 
heart  than  all  the  hope  of  spring.  Youth,  with  its  care- 
less anticipations,  had  gone  on  its  holidays  in  June ; 
middle-age  was  coming  back,  with  its  desperate  long- 
ings, in  September.  There  was  to  be  something  new, 

219 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

something  the  eye  had  not  seen  before.  Was  it  pos- 
sible that  there  would  be  fulfilment  for  the  demands 
which  had  had  none  as  yet  ?  When  the  Invisible 
Hand  turned  the  kaleidoscope  of  events,  what  would 
the  new  combinations  be  ? 

Paul  Traffbrd  was  wondering  that  on  his  own  ac- 
count. What  kind  of  a  season  was  preparing  for  him 
now  ?  It  was  just  a  year  ago,  here  in  this  very  Travel- 
lers' Club,  that  Wiltshire  had  broached  the  subject  of 
his  love  for  Paula.  Traffbrd  had  entered  on  the  winter 
which  he  had  thought  to  make  the  happiest  of  his  vic- 
torious career.  And  yet,  in  those  very  months,  he  had 
lost  his  wife,  and  wrought  some  indefinable  change  be- 
tween his  daughter  and  himself. 

Yes,  there  was  a  change.  There  could  no  longer 
be  any  doubt  of  that.  But  was  it  between  them  or  in 
them  ?  Trafford  was  not  used  to  close  analysis  of  char- 
acter, and  admitted  he  did  not  know.  She  puzzled  him. 
She  seemed  happy;  she  was  often  lively,  in  her  quiet 
way.  She  was  tenderer  and  sweeter  with  him  than 
she  had  ever  been.  She  had  borne  the  rupture  with 
Winship  so  easily  that  he  had  been  astonished.  He 
could  only  think  that  the  scene  in  June,  with  its  brutal 
attack  upon  himself,  her  father,  had  killed  what  she 
had  taken  to  be  her  love  for  the  man.  All  that  had 
passed  off  satisfactorily.  And  yet  there  was  this  subtle 
difference  in  her,  this  something  which  was  just  within 
range  of  his  perception,  though  it  was  beyond  his  power 
to  explain.  In  spite  of  her  nearness,  she  seemed  mys- 
teriously apart  from  him.  It  was  as  if  there  was  in  the 

220 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

atmosphere  about  her  some  spiritual  element  that  put 
him  ill  at  ease.  He  wondered  if  he  were  not  growing 
to  be  afraid  of  her,  as  though  she  were  no  longer  the 
daughter  of  his  blood,  but  some  ethereal  visitant  from 
other  spheres. 

"If  her  sister  Jennie  were  to  come  back  to  me  from 
the  Lord's  own  keeping,"  he  sometimes  said  to  himself, 
"I  don't  suppose  I  should  have  a  stranger  feeling  of 
unearthliness." 

There  seemed  to  Trafford  but  one  means  of  bridging 
over  the  gulf  that  had  opened  between  the  girl  and 
common  life:  that  she  should  marry  and  have  children. 
It  was  impossible  then  for  his  mind  not  to  go  back  to 
Wiltshire.  There  was  the  man  for  her  !  It  was  a  million 
pities  that  she  had  not  felt  so  herself.  He  would  have 
watched  over  her  and  worshipped  her.  He  would  have 
been  to  her  all  that  Hector  was  to  Andromache.  There 
were  even  times  when  Trafford  imagined  that  Paula 
regretted  having  sent  him  away.  He  was  afraid  to  hint 
at  it,  for  fear  of  touching  too  rudely  what  might  be  the 
delicacy  of  an  awakening  sentiment.  But  the  fact  was 
there,  that  she  spoke  of  him  often,  and  always  in  a  strain 
of  tenderness.  Then,  too,  she  had  never  looked  so 
favorably  on  any  other  man,  with  the  exception  of  this 
young  Winship,  for  whom,  after  all,  apparently,  she  had 
not  cared. 

"  Lord  !  if  it  could  only  be  brought  about,"  he  said 
to  himself  now.  "I  believe  I  should  be  ready  then  to 
depart  in  peace." 

He  was  turning  away  from  the  window  to  think  of  his 
221 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

lunch,  when  he  was  suddenly  arrested  by  an  incident 
which  seemed  to  him  like  an  answer  to  prayer.  Wilt- 
shire himself  was  entering  the  club.  There  was  noth- 
ing remarkable  in  the  fact,  beyond  what  was  passing 
in  Trafford's  mind.  Wiltshire  was  a  member  of  the 
Travellers',  and  it  was  natural  that  he  should  be  in 
Paris  at  just  that  time  of  year.  But  Trafford  could  not 
see  it  so.  Long  ago  he  would  have  called  it  one  of  his 
lucky  chances.  Now  he  could  only  feel  that  Wiltshire 
had  been  "sent." 

The  two  men  shook  hands  with  a  sincere  effusion 
which  meant  more  than  pleasure  in  each  other's  com- 
pany. Each  was  an  actor  in  the  other's  drama,  and  the 
interrupted  play  could  begin  again. 

"This  is  luck,"  Wiltshire  exclaimed.  "I  thought 
you  were  in  America." 

"I  meant  to  go,  but  I  didn't.  I  found  that  George 
could  look  after  what  was  to  be  done  just  as  well  as  I. 
He's  there,  with  Laura  and  their  youngster.  Paula 
and  I  are  at  Versailles.  You  must  come  out  and 
see  us." 

"I  should  like  to.  In  the  mean  time,  can't  we  have 
lunch  together  ?  Then  we  could  talk  a  bit." 

"All  right;  but  not  here.  There'd  be  too  many 
fellows  interrupting  us." 

In  Trafford's  tone  there  was  a  hint  of  confidences  to 
be  exchanged  to  which  the  Duke  was  not  insensible. 

" Let's  go  to  Henry's,"  he  suggested.  "That's  where 
they  feed  you  best  just  now." 

It  was  in  the  minute  of  going  out  to  take  a  cab  that 
222 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

each  found  leisure  to  note  the  changes  that  seven  months 
had  produced  in  his  companion. 

"By  George,  he's  improved!"  Traffbrd  said  to  him- 
self. "I  believe  Paula  would  see  it.  He's  better- 
looking,  and  he's  smarter,  and  he's  got  an  expression  in 
his  face  that  was  never  there  before." 

"  I  wonder  what's  aged  him  so  ?"  Wiltshire  was  ask- 
ing, silently.  "He's  grown  old  in  half  a  year.  He 
looks  like  a  man  who's  had  some  great  shock.  I  sup- 
pose it  must  have  been  Mrs.  Trafford's  death." 

The  scraps  of  conversation  after  they  had  ordered 
lunch  were  as  the  tuning  of  the  fiddles  to  the  playing  of 
the  piece.  Wiltshire  talked  of  his  trip  to  the  Cape, 
and  gave  his  views  on  South  Africa.  He  shifted  to  the 
Dolomites,  where  he  had  been  in  August,  and  passed 
on  to  tell  of  a  few  days'  shooting  he  had  just  had 
in  Hungary. 

"Now  I'm  on  my  way  home  to  slaughter  birds  at 
Edenbridge.  I  suppose  Alice  and  I  must  have  some 
people  there." 

"I  expect  you're  very  keen  on  it,"  Trafford  hazarded. 

"Not  a  bit.  If  there  was  anything  better  to  do,  I 
shouldn't  go.  Let  me  give  you  one  of  these  eggs  a 
1'ecossaise.  You'll  find  'em  good.  The  fact  is,  Traf- 
ford, I  can't  stay  anywhere.  I'm  on  the  jump.  Wher- 
ever I  am,  I  feel  as  if  I  should  be  more  at  peace  some- 
where else.  When  I  went  out  to  the  Cape,  I  thought 
that  if  I  could  only  get  away  from  Europe  I  should  be 
all  right;  and  yet,  bless  you,  I  hadn't  been  there  a  day 
before  I  was  mad  to  be  back  again  in  England.  But, 

223 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

Lord!  England  is  the  last  place  I  can  stay  in.  If  ever 
I  do  take  a  week  at  one  of  my  places  over  there,  Alice 
passes  a  procession  of  virgins  before  me,  as  if  I  were 
King  Ahasuerus." 

"Well,  you'll  marry  one  of  them  in  time." 

"No,  that's  done  for.  I'm  one  of  those  dull  men  with 
whom  such  things  go  hard.  It's  just  a  year  ago,  isn't 
it,  since  we  first  spoke  of — of — something  that  never 
came  off?" 

"  If  you  don't  mind  my  saying  so,  Wiltshire,  I  always 
thought  you  gave  up  that  fight  rather  easily." 

"Do  you  mean — ?"  Wiltshire  began,  with  a  jerk. 

"No,  I  don't.  I  don't  mean  anything  more  than  I 
say.  In  business  we  generally  keep  at  a  thing  till  we  do 
it.  In  love — " 

"In  love  there  are  two  sides  to  consider.  In  business 
you  have  only  your  own." 

"But  I've  always  understood  that  the  business  of  love 
was  to  make  the  two  sides  one." 

"When  you  can.  I  was  under  the  impression  that 
I  couldn't.  May  I  ask  you  if  you  are  of  another 
opinion  ?" 

"My  dear  boy,  I  have  no  opinion  at  all.  All  I  know 
is  that  since  you  left  Monte  Carlo  last  February  my 
little  girl  has  been  a  different  creature.  There's  some- 
thing the  matter  with  her  still.  I  don't  know  what  it  is, 
but  it's  clear  she  isn't  the  same." 

"Do  you  mean  that  she's  unhappy?" 

"I  shouldn't  go  so  far  as  that;  and  yet  if  I  did  I  don't 
know  that  I  should  be  very  wrong.  To  me  it  seems  as 

224 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

if  she  were  living  in  another  world.  She  goes  and  sits 
for  hours  in  the  park  of  the  Petit  Trianon — my  little 
place  touches  it,  you  know — and  when  she  comes  back 
the  look  in  her  eyes  is  like  that  of  some  sweet  soul  strayed 
out  of  paradise.  I  don't  know  what  to  say  to  her  or 
how  to  talk  to  her — I'm  damned  if  I  do." 

Traffbrd  made  fierce  lunges  at  his  slice  of  pre-sale, 
and  ate  savagely.  Wiltshire  did  not  eat  at  all.  He  sat 
reflecting  for  a  few  minutes  before  he  spoke. 

"I've  been  under  the  impression,"  he  said  at  last, 
"that  there  was  something  between  her  and  young 
Winship,  the  painter." 

"Oh,  pshaw!  There  was  nothing  in  that,"  Traffbrd 
declared,  gulping  nervously  at  his  Chablis.  "What 
could  there  be  ?" 

"Only  what  might  not  be  unreasonable  between  a 
girl  like  Miss  Traffbrd  and  a  handsome,  idealistic  young 
chap — " 

"Oh,  come  now!  The  fellow's  a  damned  scoundrel. 
I  know  all  his  ins  and  outs,  and  of  his  people  before 
him." 

"I'm  surprised  to  hear  you  say  that.  I've  always 
thought  rather  highly  of  him.  Alice  has  just  got  him 
a  somewhat  important  commission.  He's  been  over  at 
Sandringham  painting  Queen  Alexandra.  She'd  heard 
about  his  portrait  of  Miss  Traffbrd,  and  got  Alice  to 
send  her  a  photograph  of  it.  She  seems  to  have  been 
quite  struck  with  it,  and  sent  Miss  Traffbrd  a  message 
to  that  effect.  She  thought  the  likeness  extraordinary,, 
apart  from  the  other  merits  of  the  work." 

225 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Yes,  I  believe  Lady  Alice  did  write  Paula  some- 
thing of  the  sort." 

"We  were  rather  pleased  over  the  business,  so  that 
I'm  sorry  to  hear  your  opinion  of  the  young  man — " 

"Oh,  my  opinion  is  of  no  importance.  The  only 
thing  that  counts  is  that,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  Paula  thinks 
of  him  as  I  do.  I  shouldn't  pay  any  attention  to  the 
matter,  in  one  way  or  another,  if  it  were  not  for  the 
purpose  of  assuring  you — " 

"Thanks!" 

The  word  came  out  in  that  dry,  laconic  tone  which 
hints  that  the  rest  of  the  subject  can  be  best  pursued  in 
silence.  It  was  dropped  then  and  there,  with  a  sig- 
nificant abstention  from  further  speech.  It  was  only 
when  they  were  shaking  hands  at  the  door,  to  go  their 
different  ways,  that  Trafford  alluded  to  it  again. 

"I  say,  Wiltshire,"  he  began,  with  a  touch  of  em- 
barrassment, "I  hope  you  won't  take  anything  I  said 
about  young  Winship  too  seriously." 

"Oh  no;  I  assure  you." 

"I  called  him  a  scoundrel.  I  had  no  right  to  do  that. 
It's  a  word  I'm  too  quick  to  use  of  any  one  whose  ideas 
are  different  from  mine.  From  the  little  intercourse 
I've  had  with  the  man,  I  can't  say  that  I  like  him,  and 
yet  I'm  blowed  if  there  isn't  something  in  him  I  rather 
admire." 

"Oh,  I  sha'n't  think  any  more  about  it.  Well, 
good-bye,  old  chap.  I'm  ever  so  glad  to  have  seen 
you." 

"Good-bye,"  Trafford  returned,  as  he  got  into  his 
226 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

fiacre.  "I'll  tell  Paula  you're  here,  and  I  know  she'll 
want  you  to  come  out  and  see  us." 

Wiltshire  waited  till  Trafford  was  out  of  hearing 
before  he  turned  round  to  the  chasseur  at  the  door  of 
the  restaurant. 

"Find  out  for  me,"  he  said,  "when  there  will  be  a 
train  for  Versailles,  and  call  me  a  cab." 


CHAPTER  XX 

A^  hour  later  Wiltshire  stood  before  the  little 
palace  built  for  Jeanne  du  Barry,  but  stamped 
with  the  immortal  charm  of  Marie  Antoinette.  It  was 
so  many  years  since  he  had  been  there  that  he  had  for- 
gotten the  simple  elegance  of  its  pale,  pilastered  fa9ade, 
against  which  four  pomegranate-trees  made  dark  spots 
of  verdure,  with  an  occasional  late  scarlet  flower.  Cab- 
men hung  about  the  gateway,  children  played  in  the 
court,  and  tourists  waited  at  the  door  for  their  turn  to 
enter.  She  would  not  be  here,  he  said  to  himself,  and 
passed  onward  to  the  park. 

He  avoided  the  road  to  the  Hameau  and  the  more 
frequented  routes.  If  he  found  her  at  all,  it  would  be  in 
some  secluded  spot,  where  the  tourist  would  be  little 
likely  to  venture.  From  the  terrace  of  the  villa  he  sur- 
veyed the  French  garden,  with  its  lines  of  purple,  scarlet, 
and  orange  flowers  making  arabesque  designs  between 
the  quaint,  close-clipped  limes  planted  by  Louis  XV. 
With  the  exception  of  some  children  sailing  a  boat  on 
the  basin  in  the  centre,  there  was  no  one  there.  Down 
by  the  Octagon  Pavilion  a  girl  in  white  was  sketching; 
he  descended  towards  her,  but  it  was  not  she  whom  he 
sought.  He  went  on  through  a  labyrinth  of  hedges, 

228 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

where  princesses  and  court  ladies  had  loved  to  wander 
in  the  cool  of  the  apres-dmie"  and  now  the  shy  birds 
were  startled  by  a  foot-fall,  taking  flight  with  a  sharp 
whir  of  wings;  but  all  was  solitude  and  silence.  The 
rose-red  line  of  the  Grand  Trianon,  skirted  about  by 
gardens,  brilliant  with  the  splendid  hues  of  the  end  of 
summer,  showed  itself  on  his  left;  but  he  turned  from  it 
and  sought  the  deeper  recesses  of  the  park.  A  majestic 
mournfulness  spread  about  him  as  he  went  farther  on. 
Pines  shot  up  their  bronze-colored  shafts  with  the 
straightness  of  palms.  Ancient  pointed  firs  drooped 
with  a  melancholy  sweep,  dragging  their  lower  branches 
on  the  ivy-tangled  ground.  Junipers,  soft  as  mimosas 
and  spreading  like  cedars,  were  as  red  with  berries  as 
pomegranates  in  flower.  Dark  walls  of  clipped  yew 
led  to  stone  basins,  where  the  water  was  heavy  with 
dead  leaves,  and  the  bronze  water-babies  seemed  to 
have  been  arrested  forever,  in  mid-play,  by  tidings  of 
calamity.  Pale  buildings  showed  here  and  there  their 
crumbling  roofs  through  clusters  of  lilac  or  beneath 
yellowing  elms.  Here  was  a  rustic  village,  there  a 
temple  of  love,  elsewhere  a  sculptured  pavilion,  and 
everywhere  the  ghost  of  a  woman  whose  story  is  the 
most  moving  of  earthly  dramas  since  that  of  the  Son 
of  Man. 

Wiltshire  wandered  on,  seeing  no  one  but  an  occa- 
sional workman  or  a  party  of  tourists. 

"  Never  mind,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  If  I  don't  find 
her  to-day,  I  shall  come  every  day  till  I  do." 

He  strayed  aimlessly,  knowing  that  any  deliberate 
229 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

search  would  be  useless — and  that  only  some  happy 
chance  would  bring  them  together.  There  were  many 
probabilities  that,  in  the  semi-obscurity  of  shaded 
allees  and  winding  paths,  they  would  pass  each  other 
by.  There  were  many  more  that  she  had  not  come  at 
all.  Still  he  would  keep  on,  he  said,  until  twilight  told 
him  that  further  staying  would  be  fruitless.  He  would 
rather  meet  her  in  some  such  spot  as  this  than  in  the 
commonplace  atmosphere  of  a  drawing-room. 

There  was  a  moment  when  he  found  himself  in  a  by- 
way dim  with  the  enchanting  gloom  of  laurel,  privet, 
and  box.  The  sunlight  that  filtered  through  the  high 
trees  above  reached  here  only  in  faint  flecks  of  gold 
on  the  sombre  foliage.  The  pathway  climbed  a  little 
knoll,  and  seemed  to  lead  into  some  sacred  grove.  A 
murmur  of  falling  water  caught  his  ear,  and  he  followed 
its  music,  seeking  the  source.  There  were  no  birds  nor 
flowers — only  a  hush,  a  stillness,  a  solemnity,  as  if  sound 
would  be  a  profanation,  since  the  songs  and  laughter 
of  the  proud  men  and  light-hearted  women,  who  had 
frequented  here,  had  been  frozen  on  the  lips  by  the 
horror  of  the  coming  tragedy. 

It  was  with  surprise  that  Wiltshire  emerged  suddenly 
into  a  sunny  grass-plot,  with  a  view  of  green  meadows 
and  a  meandering  stream.  Close  beside  him,  on  the 
brow  of  a  little  cliff,  perched  a  small  pavilion  —  an 
epitome  of  that  beauty,  simple,  stately,  and  sure  of  itself, 
to  which  the  eighteenth  century  worked  up,  through  all 
the  splendors  of  color  and  all  the  graces  of  form.  The 
autumn  sunlight,  bathing  the  cream-colored  walls, 

230 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

showed  glimpses  of  the  white-and-gold  decoration 
within — the  lyre,  the  harp,  the  flute,  and  whatever  else 
is  suggestive  of  lightness,  gladness,  and  song.  Wiltshire 
stood  still.  He  was  not  an  imaginative  man — and  yet 
he  could  almost  persuade  himself  that  he  heard  the 
tinkle  of  the  spinet  giving  out  some  melody  of  Gluck's 
— he  could  almost  fancy  that  he  caught  sight,  through 
the  high  windows,  of  the  Queen's  white  fichu  or 
Madame  Elisabeth's  percale. 

He  was  so  lost  in  the  memories  of  the  spot  that  for  a 
minute  he  nearly  forgot  the  object  of  his  quest.  It  was 
only  when  he  began  to  look  about  him  that  he  became 
aware  of  the  presence  of  a  girl  in  black.  She  stood  in 
the  centre  of  an  arched  rustic  bridge,  which,  beyond 
the  pavilion,  spanned  the  tiny,  artificial  chasm  be- 
neath. Behind  her  a  towering  mass  of  rocks  formed 
a  sort  of  grotto,  from  whence  came  the  sound  of  falling 
water  which  had  lured  him  on.  Her  hands  rested  on 
the  rustic  balustrade  of  the  bridge,  and  she  stood  look- 
ing at  him,  as  he  at  her. 

For  a  minute  it  seemed  as  if  there  were  some  uncer- 
tainty in  their  mutual  recognition.  It  was  only  when 
her  lips  quivered  in  a  faint  smile  that  Wiltshire  had  the 
courage  to  go  forward. 

"  How  strange !"  she  cried,  turning  to  offer  him 
her  hand,  but  not  moving  from  her  place  in  the 
centre  of  the  bridge.  "  I  was  just  thinking  of 
you." 

"And  I  of  you,"  Wiltshire  responded,  keeping  her 
hand  an  instant  longer  than  he  need  have  done.  "There 

231 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

must  surely  have  been  some  unseen  force  at  work  be- 
tween us." 

"Did  you  think  I  should  be  here  ?"  she  questioned,  in 
her  direct  way. 

"  I  knew  you  lived  somewhere  near  by,"  he  replied, 
evasively.  "I  was  really  strolling  about  at  haphazard. 
It's  the  most  wonderful  thing  in  the  world  that  I  should 
have  found  you  like  this." 

"Yes,  it  is,"  she  agreed.  "I  come  out  into  the  park 
nearly  every  day,  and  I  don't  think  I've  ever  met  any 
one  I  knew  before.  Over  at  Versailles  one  does,  but 
so  few  people  ever  come  to  the  Trianons,  except  to  take 
a  hurried  run  through  the  villas  and  a  walk  down  to  the 
Hameau.  They  don't  know  anything  about  the  real 
beauties  and  associations  of  the  place." 

"I  didn't  myself  till  this  afternoon." 

"  Oh,  but  you  can't  know  anything  yet." 

"  I  could  learn,  though,  if  you'd  teach  me — and  take 
me  about." 

"I  should  love  to,"  she  smiled,  "but  you  wouldn't 
have  the  time.  I  doubt,  too,  if  you'd  have  the  patience 
or  the  interest  or  the  imagination." 

"Of  the  four  conditions,  I  know  I  could  take  the  time, 
and  I  could  cultivate  the  others.  All  I  should  want 
would  be  a  little  steering." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"I'm  afraid  you'd  need  more  than  that.  I  ques- 
tion whether  you're  one  of  the  elect  few  who  worship 
the  shadows  of  other  days.  This  is  the  enchanted 
garden  of  the  past.  It's  one  of  the  few  spots  on  earth 

232 


where  the  past  isn't  past.  Almost  everywhere  else — in 
Rome  or  Athens  or  Egypt,  for  instance  —  the  things 
that  happened  a  long  time  ago  are  hopelessly  out  of  one's 
mental  reach.  But  it  isn't  so  here.  This  is  one  of  the 
rare  places  that  later  generations  have  been  wise  enough 
to  let  alone.  This  very  spot  where  we're  standing  is 
exactly  as  it  was  when  Marie  Antoinette  left  it,  on 
October  5,  1789.  Did  you  know  that  she  was  right 
here  in  this  grotto  when  the  messenger  came  to  tell  her 
that  the  mob  from  Paris  was  advancing  on  Versailles  ? 
She  hurried  over  to  the  Chateau,  and  never  came  back 
any  more." 

She  spoke  with  a  certain  breathlessness,  as  though  to 
gain  time  or  to  conceal  embarrassment. 

"  I'm  sure  I  could  learn  details  of  that  sort  if  any- 
body would  be  willing  to  teach  me." 

"Ah,  but  would  you  come  and  sit  here  with  Marie 
Antoinette  herself?  Would  you  put  yourself  back  into 
her  time,  and  live  with  her  through  all  her  follies  and 
heartaches  and  sufferings  ?" 

"I  shouldn't  ask  for  anything  better,  if  you'd  just 
show  me  how  to  do  it." 

"I  can  see  already  that  you  wouldn't  have  the  spirit. 
I'll  test  you.  Look  over  there,  in  that  path  beyond  the 
lake.  Tell  me  what  you  see." 

"I  see  two  elderly  ladies  in  dark  dresses.  One  has 
knitting  in  her  hand,  and  one  is  carrying  a  parasol." 

"And  that's  all?" 

"That's  all  I  can  see  with  the  naked  eye.  If  I  had  a 
field-glass — " 

"  233 


THE   GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Now,  that's  Madame  Adelaide  and  Madame  Vic- 
toire,  the  King's  aunts.  They're  neither  so  young  nor 
so  pretty  as  when  Nattier  painted  the  splendid  portraits 
over  at  Versailles,  but  there's  something  sweet  and 
touching  in  their  faces,  and  I  love  to  watch  them.  They 
come  over  to  Trianon  every  afternoon,  between  dinner 
and  supper.  If  there's  to  be  music  in  this  little  pavilion, 
you'll  see  them,  presently,  stroll  up  here.  Now,  listen. 
What  do  you  hear  here  ?" 

"I  hear  some  children — squabbling." 

"No!  How  can  you?  They're  not  squabbling. 
That's  the  little  Dauphin  and  Madame  Royale  singing. 
They've  been  up  in  the  English  garden,  and  they'll  go 
by,  in  a  minute,  to  drive  their  team  of  goats  in  the 
meadow.  He,  poor  lamb,  will  look  so  wide-eyed  and 
innocent ;  and  she  will  have  already  in  her  young  face 
the  prophetic  expression  of  sadness  that  Vigee-Lebrun 
giv^s  her.  But  I  know  you  won't  see  it.  You'll  think 
it's  two  school-children  from  Versailles.  That's  be- 
cause you  haven't  the  spirit.  I  feel  certain  already  that 
you  couldn't  tell  me  who  that  is,  over  there  beneath  that 
line  of  trees." 

"It  looks  to  me  like  Madame  Elisabeth  or  the 
Princess  de  Lamballe,"  Wiltshire  said,  with  a  laugh, 
"only  that  she's  limping." 

"It's  the  Queen,"  Paula  affirmed,  decidedly.  "You 
can  tell  that  by  her  walk.  She  isn't  limping.  It  only 
•seems  so  to  you.  No  one  else  has  that  sort  of  gliding 
carriage,  so  graceful  and,  at  the  same  time,  so  dignified. 
Besides,  she's  alone.  That's  significant  in  itself.  It's 

234 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

only  at  Trianon  that  etiquette  is  suspended  and  she  can 
walk  without  her  suite.  She's  on  her  way  to  the  Ha- 
meau  to  see  the  cows  milked.  There's  nothing  she  en- 
joys so  much,  poor  thing.  She'll  be  here  in  a  minute, 
so  I  think  we'd  better  go  away.  If  you'll  come  home 
with  me,  I'll  give  you  a  cup  of  tea,  and  perhaps  you'll 
see  papa.  He's  been  in  Paris  all  day,  but  he  generally 
gets  back  about  this  time." 

Wiltshire  kept  to  himself  the  fact  that  he  had  seen 
papa  already,  and  hoped  that,  if  they  met,  Trafford 
would  do  the  same.  It  was  just  as  well  that  Paula 
should  think  the  meeting  had  come  about  through  the 
special  intervention  of  Providence.  He  turned  when 
she  did,  and  followed  her  down,  through  dim  and  nar- 
row paths,  where  they  could  not  walk  abreast,  towards 
the  open  avenue.  He  found  answers  to  the  many 
questions  she  asked  about  himself,  as  she  led  the  way. 
Where  had  he  come  from  ?  Where  was  he  going  ? 
How  had  he  happened  to  drop  down  in  the  middle  of 
the  park  of  the  Petit  Trianon,  of  all  the  odd  places  in 
the  world  ?  But,  as  he  spoke,  he  had  Trafford's  words 
at  luncheon  ringing  in  his  heart:  "Some  sweet  soul 
strayed  out  of  paradise."  That  was  what  she  was. 
He  could  see  exactly  what  her  father  had  meant.  The 
change  in  her  was  difficult  to  define,  but  it  was  very 
visible.  It  would  be  a  vulgarizing  of  its  spiritual  qual- 
ity to  say  that  it  had  made  her  thinner  and  paler,  but 
that  was  the  effect.  "Her  eyes  are  homes  of  silent 
prayer,"  was  the  quotation  he  had  been  making  to 
himself  all  the  time  she  had  been  chattering  about  the 

235 


Tl4E  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

King's  aunts.  It  was  clear  that  her  self-possession 
was  but  superficial,  and  that  even  the  cheerfulness  of 
her  conversation  had  a  forced  note. 

"No  happy  woman  could  look  like  that,"  he  said  to 
himself,  when  once  she  turned  half  round. 

With  a  great  leaping  of  the  heart,  he  wondered  if  he 
could  be  the  cause  of  her  hidden  grief.  Trafford  had 
hinted  as  much,  and  yet  the  idea  was  too  grotesque. 
She  must  have  known  that  a  sign  from  her  would  have 
brought  him  back  at  any  time.  He  would  have  scouted 
the  very  thought,  had  it  not  offered  a  straw  for  his 
drowning  hope  to  cling  to.  Besides,  it  was  not  an  un- 
heard-of thing  for  a  beautiful  woman  to  love  an  ugly 
man.  He  could  think  of  several  instances  among  his 
own  acquaintances.  Was  it  possible,  after  all,  that  the 
miracle  had  been  wrought  for  him  ? 


CHAPTER  XXI 

• 

WHEN  they  reached  an  avenue  of  towering  elms, 
touched  already  with  the  yellow  brown  of  au- 
tumn, Wiltshire  was  able  to  take  his  place  by  her  side. 

"This  is  our  way,"  she  said.  "We  have  a  little  gate 
farther  down  that  leads  into  our  own  grounds.  I'm 
glad  you've  come  out,  because  I  like  showing  my  garden 
to  people  who  haven't  seen  it.  Lady  Alice  was  good 
enough  to  compare  it  to  the  famous  one  at  your  Irish 
place,  but  I  dare  say  she  did  that  only  to  please  me." 

"  By-the-way,  you've  heard  from  Alice  lately,  haven't 
you  ?" 

"Yes;  she  wrote  to  give  me  the  Queen's  kind  mes- 
sage about — about  my  portrait." 

Wiltshire  noticed  the  instant  of  hesitation,  and  ob- 
served her  sharply.  She  continued  to  walk  on,  with 
head  erect,  in  the  resolute  fashion  he  had  already  re- 
marked as  being  new  to  her,  but  no  touch  of  c.olor  came 
into  her  pale  cheek. 

"I  suppose  you  know  that  the  King  was  so  much 
pleased  with  Winship's  picture  of  the  Queen  that  he 
has  made  him  stay  at  Sandringham  to  paint  the  Princess 
Victoria." 

"No;  I  didn't  know  it.     I'm  so  glad." 
237 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

She  glanced  towards  him,  but  again  he  got  nothing 
from  his  scrutiny.  It  seemed  to  him,  however,  that  the 
old,  appealing  look  was  gone,  and  that  in  its  place  had 
come  something  detached,  uplifted,  which  caused  him 
a  sudden  sinking  of  the  heart. 

"I  might  as  well  hope  to  marry  an  angel,"  was  the 
thought  that  passed  through  his  mind.  Aloud  he  said : 
"Yes;  it's  a  fine  thing  for  Winship.  Alice  writes  me 
that  owing  to  his  being  kept  so  long  at  Sandringham, 
he's  had  to  cut  short  the  visit  he  was  going  to  make  at 
Edenbridge.  She  hopes  to  have  him  for  a  night  or  two, 
but  not  more.  I  believe  he  has  orders  ahead  that  will 
keep  him  busy  for  the  next  two  years." 

"I'm  so  glad,"  she  said  again. 

"I  thought  you  would  be,"  he  went  on,  "especially 
after  what  you  said  of  the  family  at  Monte  Carlo.  Do 
you  remember  ?" 

"Yes,  perfectly.  I  ought  to  say,  perhaps,  that  I 
found  you  were  right,  and  that  it  wasn't  possible  to  do 
— what  I  thought  of  then." 

"You've  done  a  great  deal  better.  He's  a  made 
man  through — what  shall  I  say  ? — through  your  co- 
operation." 

"You  mean  the  portrait.  I  was  only  an  accident  in 
that.  He  would  have  had  the  same  success  with  any- 
body else.  It  was  bound  to  come." 

"Perhaps  so  ;  and  yet  the  hand  that  lifts  us  up  is  the 
one  to  which  we  must  be  grateful.  We  can't  say  that 
another  would  have  done  as  well." 

If  Paula  betrayed  herself  at  all,  it  was  then.  She 
238 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

stopped  in  her  walk  and  confronted  him.  They  had 
entered  a  dim,  turf-carpeted  avenue,  where  the  solemn 
aisle  of  overhanging  green  stretched  on,  like  that  of  some 
stupendous  church,  to  a  distant  arch  of  sunlight.  The 
swish  of  a  hedge-trimmer's  sickle  cut  sharply  on  the 
stillness,  and  far  away  they  could  hear  the  rumbling 
of  a  forester's  wain.  In  a  round  opening  in  the  wood 
stood  a  lonely,  noseless,  armless  statue  of  Themistocles, 
the  one  poor,  melancholy  ghost  of  the  jovous,  by-gone 
centuries, 

"I  want  to  tell  you  something,  Duke,"  Paula  began, 
with  the  forced  self-possession  he  had  already  remarked 
in  her.  "I  should  like  you  to  know  it  before  you  see 
papa.  I  speak  of  it  because — well,  because  of  what  we 
talked  about  that  day  at  Monaco.  If  my  father  ever 
owed  Mr.  Winship  anything,  he  doesn't  now." 

"No?" 

"No.  Mr.  Winship  found  the  means  by  which  to 
repay  himself.  It  wasn't  in  money;  it  was  in  some- 
thing else.  Mr.  Winship  wouldn't  take  the  money." 

"Do  you  mean  that  your  father  offered  to —  ?" 

"Yes  ;  but  Mr.  Winship  refused." 

"And  of  course  that  hurt  your  father." 

"You'll  see.  That's  one  reason  why  I'm  telling  you. 
Papa  is  very  much  changed;  he's  aged  in  every  way.  I 
want  you  to  be  prepared  for  it." 

"Am  I  to  understand  that  Winship  had  the  power —  ?" 

"  He  had  the  power  to  wound  my  father  deeply,  and 
he  used  it.  I  can't  explain  myself  any  further.  I  only 
want  you  to  know  that  papa  isn't  what  he  used  to  be. 

239 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Dear  mamma's  death  was  a  great  blow  to  him — and 
then  this  other  thing — and  everything — " 

She  broke  off  with  a  pathetic  little  gesture,  and  turned 
to  walk  on  again. 

"  I  understand,"  Wiltshire  murmured,  though  he  did 
not  understand  at  all. 

Paula  said  no  more,  and  he  felt  it  best  to  let  the  sub- 
ject drop.  They  went  on  in  silence  to  the  end  of  the 
vista,  emerging  all  of  a  sudden  into  the  open  country, 
with  a  wide  prospect  of  fields,  reaped  and  yellow,  or 
lush  and  green.  Dotted  about  in  the  hills  all  round, 
white  chateaux  stood  in  pleasant  nooks,  sheltered  by 
overhanging  woods. 

"This  is  our  place,"  Paula  said,  passing  through  a 
wicket-gate  into  a  grove  of  firs.  "  It  goes  by  the  name 
of  the  Pavilion  de  la  Reine,  because,  I  believe,  the  first 
building  on  the  ground  was  a  sort  of  studio  where  Marie 
Leczinska  used  to  paint.  The  present  house  is  quite 
modern,  though,  as  you'll  see;  it's  in  the  style  of  Louis 
XIII.  We  thought  at  first  of  one  or  two  more  historic 
places  that  happened  to  be  in  the  market,  but  dear 
mamma  said  she  wouldn't  live  with  anybody's  ghosts, 
and  so  we  took  this." 

In  a  minute  or  two  they  came  out  on  the  lowest  of 
three  wide  terraces,  with  gardens  designed  in  the  style 
of  Le  Notre,  leading  up  to  the  cheerful  red-brick  fa9ade 
of  a  house  at  once  dignified  and  homelike.  Hedges 
of  box  and  privet  were  broken  by  statues  and  sculptured 
urns,  while  rows  of  conically  clipped  yews  made  quaint 
and  stately  contrast  to  the  majestic  elms  and  chestnuts, 

240 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

where  the  gardens  merged  into  the  park.  Down  from 
the  centre  of  the  house  came  a  broad  walk,  straight  as  a 
ribbon,  descending  from  terrace  to  terrace  by  flights  of 
marble  steps.  Each  terrace  had  its  pair  of  fountains, 
of  which  the  two  on  the  middle  plane  were  playing. 
Not  far  behind  the  chateau  the  ground  rose  gently  into 
a  wooded  hill. 

"Charming!"  Wiltshire  commented,  as  they  stood 
still  for  a  minute  to  look  up  over  the  successive  stages 
of  blossom  and  verdure.  "It  does  recall  our  garden  at 
Kilmaurice,  as  Alice  said.  Only  this  is  the  real  thing, 
and  that's  the  imitation." 

"I'm  glad  you  like  it,"  Paula  returned.  "I'm  very 
fond  of  it.  Papa  bought  the  place  only  for  week-ends, 
and  for  entertaining  passing  Americans,  who  like  to  see 
a  bit  of  the  country;  but  we've  come  to  like  it  better  than 
any  of  our  houses.  Ah,  there's  papa  now.  He's  got 
back.  Papa,  dear,"  she  called,  "here's  an  old  friend 
whom  I'm  sure  you'll  be  glad  to  see." 

When  Traffbrd  turned  from  the  idle  contemplation 
of  a  peacock  spreading  his  tail,  his  face  took  on  slowly 
the  expression  of  admiring  appreciation  it  had  some- 
times shown  to  his  associates  when  they  had  carried 
through  some  unexpectedly  successful  "deal."  When 
he  laughed  and  clapped  his  hands,  and  called  out 
"Gad!"  in  a  big,  jovial  voice,  Wiltshire  knew  that  his 
own  prompt  action  had  met  with  approval,  and  that 
Paula  would  hear  nothing  of  the  luncn  at  Henry's  in 
the  morning. 

"It's  done  him  good  to  see  you  already,"  Paula  mur- 
241 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

mured,  as  Traffbrd  came  down  to  meet  them,  shouting 
words  of  welcome.  "And,"  she  added,  quietly,  "it 
does  me  good,  too,  to  see  him  look  pleased  again." 

"If  it  only  needs  that — "  Wiltshire  began,  but  Traf- 
ford  was  upon  them,  and  they  could  say  no  more. 

At  tea,  in  the  English  garden,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
house,  Paula  was  conscious  of  the  fact  that  they  had  not 
been  so  cheerful  since  long  before  her  mother  died. 
The  sense  of  constraint  which  had  become  permanent 
between  her  father  and  herself  seemed  to  drop  away 
in  the  presence  of  this  kindly  man,  with  his  unofficious 
sympathy.  From  her  seat  behind  the  tea-table,  in  the 
shade  of  a  trellised  wall,  hung  with  honeysuckle,  clem- 
atis, and  roses,  she  watched  the  two  men,  out  in  the  sun- 
light, on  the  grass.  She  half  listened,  and  half  followed 
her  own  thoughts,  as  Wiltshire  explained  to  her  father 
the  exact  situation  between  the  Church  and  the  State  in 
France.  For  the  first  time  in  months  the  ashen  hue  had 
disappeared  from  Trafford's  face,  while  the  old  light  of 
power  stole  back  into  his  dulled  eyes.  Wiltshire,  too, 
was  changed.  She  had  noticed  that  from  the  beginning, 
but  now  she  had  time  to  remark  the  fact  more  con- 
sciously. It  was  as  if  he  had  acquired  the  dignity  that 
comes  from  mental  or  moral  suffering.  That  reflection 
brought  a  pang  with  it,  and  the  pity  which  had  always 
entered  into  her  regard  for  him  took  on  a  new  degree  of 
tenderness. 

It  required  but  little  urging  to  induce  Wiltshire  to 
stay  and  dine.  Again  Paula  had  the  sensation  that  life 
had  come  into  their  atmosphere  once  more.  Her 

242 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

father  told  his  favorite  stories  with  the  relish  he  would 
have  had  a  year  ago,  and  laughed  with  his  old-time 
jollity  as  he  made  the  familiar  points.  He  absorbed 
Wiltshire's  attention  with  the  curious  fascination  he  al- 
ways had  for  men ;  and  it  both  pleased  and  amused  her 
to  see  that,  when  she  left  them  at  the  end  of  dinner, 
neither  of  them  noticed  it,  except  to  rise  as  she  passed 
out. 

It  was  then,  however,  thatTrafford's  manner  changed. 
He  told  no  more  anecdotes,  and  presently,  as  they 
smoked,  he  went  back  to  politics.  From  politics  he 
passed  to  business,  and  from  business  to  philanthropy. 
Then,  for  a  few  minutes,  conversation  flagged.  Wilt- 
shire felt  that  they  had  been  working  up  to  something, 
and  waited  for  the  cue. 

"Speaking  of  philanthropy,"  Traffbrd  said,  with  a 
sudden  effort,  "  I've  got  a  lot  cf  money  I  should  like  to 
give  away." 

"That's  easily  done,  as  a  rule,"  Wiltshire  laughed. 

"As  a  rule — yes,"  Trafford  went  on,  slowly.  "But 
my  case  is  a  little  outside  the  rule.  I  wonder  if  I  could 
make  you  understand  it  ?  I've  often  thought  that,  if 
ever  I  had  the  chance,  I  should  like  to  talk  it  out  with 
you — confidentially." 

"Oh,  confidentially,  of  course,"  Wiltshire  said,  po- 
litely. 

"You  see,  I've  given  away  a  deuce  of  a  lot  of  money, 
in  one  way  or  another.  I've  given  to  charities,  I've 
given  to  churches,  I've  given  to  hospitals,  I've  given 
to  orphanages  and  colleges  and  libraries  and  picture- 

243 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

galleries,  and  every  other  damned  thing  there  is  to  give 
to.  Now  I  should  like  to  do  something  different  from 
all  that." 

He  paused  to  puff  nervously  at  his  cigar.  Wiltshire 
waited  for  him  to  go  on. 

"I  don't  have  to  tell  you,"  he  resumed,  "that  I've 
been  what  is  called  a  successful  man.  Well,  to  make 
my  successes  a  good  many  poor  devils  have  had  to  fail. 
I  know  that  I'm  under  no  obligation  to  consider  them — 
none  whatever.  And  yet,  as  I  grow  old,  I'll  be  hanged 
if  I  don't  think  of  them  a  good  deal.  Perhaps  it's 
nerves,  or  perhaps  it's  nothing  but  the  living  every  day 
with  such  a  creature  as  that  little  girl  of  mine.  What- 
ever the  reason,  there's  the  fact  that  I  should  be  glad 
to  shuffle  back  some  of  this  useless  money  into  the 
hands  of  those  who  used  to — well,  who  need  it  more 
than  I,  at  any  rate." 

"How  would  you  propose  to  do  it  ?"  Wiltshire  asked, 
puffing  quietly. 

"  There  you've  got  me.  That's  where  I  don't  see  my 
way.  I  suppose  to  you  it  seems  easy." 

"No;  on  the  contrary,  I  can  quite  understand  that 
it  might  be  a  ticklish  job." 

"It's  infernally  ticklish.  It's  one  of  the  queer  ele- 
ments of  the  situation.  Here  I  am,  a  well-meaning 
man,  with  no  other  longing  than  to  do  good,  and  I'll  be 
hanged  if  I  can.  I  could  give  you  the  names  of  a  dozen 
people — old  enemies,  or  old  enemies'  widows  and  or- 
phans— whom  I  should  be  willing  to  set  up  for  life,  and 
yet  I  doubt  if  they'd  let  me.  You'd  hardly  believe  that." 

244 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"  Oh  yes,"  Wiltshire  replied,  dryly.  "  A  little  knowl- 
edge of  human  nature  makes  the  thing  clear  enough." 

"That's  it.  You've  got  that  knowledge,  and  so  I 
thought  that  you  might  help  me." 

"Oh!" 

Wiltshire  withdrew  his  cigar  from  his  lips,  and  looked 
round  with  some  astonishment. 

"I  mean,"  Trafford  explained,  half  apologetically, 
"that  if,  in  any  particular  instance,  you  had  the  chance 
to  facilitate  the  thing — " 

"Of  course,  of  course.  Were  you  thinking  of  any 
one  especially  ?" 

"No — no — that  is — I  know  you've  befriended  the 
family  of  that — that  young  Winship — who — who — 
painted  a  portrait — " 

"Quite  so.  We  were  speaking  of  him  at  lunch  this 
morning,  if  you  remember." 

"You  may  not  be  aware  that  his  father  was  an  old 
opponent  of  mine." 

"I  know  the  circumstances  vaguely." 

"Then  I  won't  go  into  them  further  than  to  say  he 
was  the  kind  of  old  fellow  you  couldn't  spare.  I  did 
my  best  to  save  him  and  his  family  from  ruin,  but  when 
they  were  bent  on  running  into  it,  I  had  to  let  them. 
That's  all  over  years  ago.  Now  he  has  this  son  and 
an  old-maid  daughter.  Don't  you  understand,  Wilt- 
shire, that  with  more  money  than  I  know  what  to  do 
with — with  money  of  which  I  could  take  three-fourths 
and  bury  it  in  a  hole  in  the  ground  and  still  remain  a  rich 
man — don't  you  understand  that  I  should  be  glad —  ?" 
245 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

He  stopped  as  if  searching  for  a  word. 

"I  quite  understand,"  Wiltshire  hastened  to  say. 
"But  isn't  it  the  case  that  Winship  is  getting  beyond 
the  need  of  generosity  of  that  sort  ?" 

"No  one  is  beyond  the  need  of  what  he  can  get.  And 
whether  he's  so  or  not,  I  want  the  fellow  to  have  the 
money.  I  want  to  know  that  he's  taken  it.  What  he 
does  with  it  afterwards,  or  what  his  sister  does  with  it, 
won't  matter  a  twopenny  damn  as  far  as  I'm  con- 
cerned ;  but  I  want  to  know  that  they've  had  it.  I'd 
leave  it  on  his  door-step,  I'd  stuff  it  down  his  throat, 
just  for  the  satisfaction  of  getting  rid  of  it." 

He  laughed  grimly,  and  threw  the  stump  of  his  cigar 
on  the  ash-tray. 

"Why  don't  you  tell  him  so?" 

"I've  done  so,"  Traffbrd  answered,  after  a  moment's 
hesitation.  "He  wouldn't  take  it." 

"Then  what  would  you  expect  me  to  do  ?" 

"Do  ?  Do  anything,  so  long  as  they  take  the  money. 
I  don't  care  a  jot  about  their  knowing  it's  from  me. 
I'll  give  you  a  million  dollars — two  hundred  thousand 
pounds — to  juggle  into  their  pockets  by  any  tale  you 
can  invent.  Gad  !  when  I  think  how  easy  it's  been  to 
make  money,  it  seems  like  the  irony  of  the  very  Lord 
above  to  find  it  so  difficult  to  throw  it  away." 

There  were  several  pertinent  remarks  in  Wiltshire's 
mind,  but  he  withheld  them.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he 
was  slightly  appalled  by  the  lifting  of  this  corner  of  the 
veil  on  the  rich  man's  conscience.  From  the  beginning 
of  their  acquaintance  he  had  been  interested  in  Traf- 

246 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

ford,  as  the  type  of  American  success,  while  he  had  been 
drawn  to  him  by  a  certain  bigness  and  generosity 
in  Trafford's  character;  but  he  shrank  from  contact 
with  the  details  of  his  business  career,  with  the  distaste 
of  the  hereditary  grand  seigneur.  It  was  a  relief  to  him 
when  Trafford  rose,  and,  assuming  another  tone,  af- 
fected to  take  the  matter  lightly.  He  himself  tried  to 
do  the  same. 

"Winship  is  as  pig-headed  a  chap  as  was  ever  driven 
to  market,"  he  said,  as  they  went  towards  the  drawing- 
room,  "but  I  know  him  pretty  well,  and,  if  it's  any 
service  to  you,  I'll  try  to  influence  him  for  his  good." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

PHE  appearance  in  the  New  York  Magazine  of 
1  the  famous  series  of  articles,  in  which  the  history 
and  methods  of  the  Vermont  Mining  Company  were 
exposed,  had  a  clarifying  effect  on  Paula's  chaotic 
thought.  Till  then  she  had  not  been  without  the  per- 
sistent hope  that  some  way  of  reconciliation  might  be 
found  between  Winship  and  her  father.  "Roger  loves 
me,"  she  argued  to  herself,  in  the  first  days  of  the 
separation.  "He'll  come  back,  and  take  the  money, 
for  my  sake."  But  when  she  had  read  to  a  close  the 
first  of  the  articles  that  fell  under  her  notice,  she  had 
none  of  that  hope  left.  "He'll  not  take  it,"  she  said 
to  herself  then.  "No  man  who  knew  this  could." 
As  she  made  the  reflection,  there  floated  through  her 
mind  Lovelace's  couplet: 

"7  had  not  loved  thee,  dear,  so  much, 
Loved  I  not  honor  more." 

The  lines  brought  her  a  vague  consolation.  She  re- 
peated them  often  after  that.  They  seemed  to  justify 
Winship  for  what  had  appeared  to  her  like  cruelty. 

That  was  in  July.     She  had  picked  up  the  current 

248 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

number  of  the  New  York  Magazine  quite  casually  at  a 
news-stand,  not  suspecting  that  it  could  contain  any- 
thing of  special  interest  to  herself.  She  learned  from 
it  that  the  articles  had  been  appearing  since  the  previous 
March,  and  ordered  all  the  numbers  to  be  sent  to  her. 

The  first  instalment  dealt,  among  other  things,  with 
the  origin  of  the  Trafford  family,  and  contained  many 
details  of  which  Paula  herself  had  little  knowledge. 
It  informed  her  that  in  the  early  eighteen  hundreds 
William  Trafford  had  been  a  laborer  at  Cannock 
Chase,  in  Staffordshire.  He  married  a  girl  named 
Sarah  Paul,  by  whom  he  had  a  large  family,  several  of 
their  descendants  being  miners  at  Cannock  Chase  to- 
day. John  Trafford,  their  second  son,  emigrated  to 
America  about  the  year  1833.  He  settled  as  a  farmer 
near  Cumberland,  Vermont,  where  he  married  Jennie 
O'Mara,  a  pretty  Irish  girl,  servant  in  the  house  of 
Julius  Murray,  a  coal  merchant  in  the  neighboring 
town. 

John  and  Jennie  Trafford  were  thrifty,  industrious 
people,  with  that  instinct  to  rise  in  the  world  which  dis- 
tinguished the  earlier  emigrants  from  the  British  Isles. 
Unable  themselves  to  read  or  write,  they  were  eager  to 
give  their  children  the  best  educational  advantages  the 
neighborhood  afforded.  These  were  exhausted,  ap- 
parently, when  Andrew  was  fourteen  and  Paul  was 
twelve.  Then  both  lads  went  to  work,  Andrew  remain- 
ing with  his  father  on  the  farm,  while  Paul  found 
employment  as  office-boy,  with  Julius  Murray,  in  the 
town. 

17  249 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

From  that  point  the  biography  dealt  chiefly  with  the 
younger  of  the  two.  It  recounted  in  detail  Paul's  first 
bit  of  business  inspiration,  in  which  the  boy  showed 
himself  as  father  to  the  man.  A  letter  from  Peter 
O'Mara,  his  mother's  brother,  who  worked  in  the 
Dundee  Mines,  in  Pennsylvania,  had  hinted  at  one  of 
those  early  difficulties  between  miner  and  employer 
which  were  afterwards  organized  into  strikes.  Julius 
Murray  told,  during  all  the  rest  of  his  life,  how  Paul 
had  rushed  into  his  office  breathless  with  the  news, 
He  was  fond  of  describing  the  lad,  as  he  stood  there, 
straight  and  erect,  in  all  the  dignity  of  his  thirteen 
years,  his  hands  behind  his  back,  and  his  blue  eyes 
flashing.  "Wouldn't  it  be  well,  Mr.  Murray,  to  buy 
up  all  the  Dundee  coal  you  can  get  between  to-day  and 
to-morrow  ?  By  the  day  after  that  everybody  else  will 
know  the  news  as  well  as  we."  Julius  Murray,  un- 
accustomed to  wisdom  from  the  mouth  of  babes  and 
sucklings,  laughed  at  the  boy's  ardor  and  pooh- 
poohed  his  advice.  When  he  awoke  next  day  to  the 
fact  that  he  was  letting  a  great  opportunity  slip  by,  he 
had  only  twenty-four  hours  in  which  to  do  the  work  of 
forty-eight.  The  money  he  made  when,  in  the  follow- 
ing winter,  Dundee  coal  went  up  to  the  price,  unheard 
of  in  those  days,  of  eleven  dollars  a  ton,  was  that  which 
gave  Miss  Julia  Murray  the  claim  to  be  considered  an 
heiress  when  she  eloped  with  Paul  Trafford  in  1870. 

In  subsequent  numbers  Paula  read  the  history  of  the 
Trafford  rise,  step  by  step,  scheme  by  scheme,  million 
by  million,  lawsuit  by  lawsuit,  fight  by  fight — a  great, 

250 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

sordid  epic  of  finance,  in  which  reputations  were  ruined, 
homes  wrecked,  lives  blasted,  and  a  whole  country's 
commercial,  legal,  political,  and  moral  honor  brought 
painfully  into  question. 

Paula  read  with  no  more  than  a  vague  comprehension. 
There  were  so  many  characters  in  the  play — lawyers, 
bankers,  merchants,  capitalists,  speculators,  senators, 
governors,  engineers,  journalists,  and  politicians  of 
every  sort — that  she  grew  confused  among  them.  The 
scene  shifted  so  often — now  to  San  Francisco,  now  to 
Chicago,  now  to  Washington,  now  to  St.  Louis,  now 
to  New  York — that  her  mind  could  not  keep  pace  with 
the  action.  There  were  so  many  questions  involved — 
legal,  legislative,  geological,  and  economical — that  her 
simple  intelligence  reeled  in  the  effort  to  understand. 

Where  there  were  dramatic  personal  events,  she 
grasped  the  subject  more  fully.  She  could  follow  the 
story  of  the  ruin  of  the  Winships  from  beginning  to  end. 
She  could  do  the  same  with  those  of  the  Marshalls,  of 
Turtonville,  of  the  Brewers,  of  Albany,  and  of  poor 
Jackson,  of  Ohio.  But  whether  details  were  clear  to 
her  or  not,  one  great  fact  surged  up  out  of  this  weltering 
mass  of  testimony — that  the  father  she  adored  had 
fought  his  way  to  success  by  means  which  made  her 
shudder.  Nothing  she  had  guessed  at,  nothing  she  had 
feared,  could  equal  this  heaping  up  of  testimony  from 
every  corner  of  the  land.  Nothing  she  had  ever  imag- 
ined of  Russian  tyranny  or  Turkish  misrule  could  be 
more  merciless  than  the  despotism  with  which  her 
father  and  his  associates,  in  a  country  considered  free* 

251 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

had  been  able  to  club  and  crush  and  gag  and  grind  into 
helplessness  whatever  lifted  itself  against  them.  And 
he  was  her  father  !  She  was  his  child  !  She  was  bone 
of  his  bone  and  flesh  of  his  flesh.  She  could  no  more 
dissociate  herself  from  him  and  his  work  than  she  could 
from  the  line  of  laborers  and  servants  from  whom  she 
sprang.  However  confused  she  might  be  about  facts, 
she  had  no  doubt  as  to  her  duty  here :  it  was  to  stand  by 
the  man  who  depended  upon  her;  to  stand  by  him  all 
the  more  now,  when,  in  his  old  age,  the  storm  of  popular 
wrath  was  gathering  and  breaking  about  him. 

All  through  July,  August,  and  September  she  had 
been  reading  these  articles  secretly.  That  her  father 
was  reading  them  secretly,  too,  she  knew  from  seeing 
in  the  New  York  Herald  or  the  Times  an  occasional 
statement  from  his  legal  representatives,  in  which  this 
or  that  accusation  was  denied.  How  deeply  he  re- 
sented this  history  of  himself  she  could  see  from  his 
increased  depression  as  each  new  number  of  the  series 
appeared.  Now,  on  one  of  the  last  days  of  September, 
the  October  issue  was  in  her  hands. 

She  had  just  finished  reading  it,  in  her  favorite  corner 
of  the  English  garden.  It  had  been  especially  pitiless 
to  her  father  in  the  piling  up  of  charges  against  him. 
She  closed  the  volume,  and  with  hands  clasped  upon  it 
gazed  vaguely  across  the  lawn,  indifferent  to  its  sunlit 
spaces,  as  well  as  to  the  masses  of  dahlia  and  canna, 
gorgeous  with  autumn  bloom. 

"No,  no,"  she  kept  saying  to  herself,  "Roger  couldn't 
take  that  money.  It's  blood -money.  And  I  must 

252 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

keep  it.  There's  no  way  by  which  I  could  give  it  up. 
If  I  did,  it  would  kill  papa.  I  must  go  on,  all  my  life 
clothed  in  the  ruin  of  beggared  men  and  of  hungry 
women  and  children.  Roger  said  that,  and  it's  quite 
true.  My  pearls  are  their  tears  and  my  rubies  are 
their  sweat  of  blood.  And  yet  I  must  wear  them,  for 
papa's  sake,  whatever  the  world  may  think,  whatever 
Roger  himself  may  believe  of  me.  O  Rogerl  O  my 
love!  How  can  I  go  on  all  through  the  years  without 
you?  Oh,  God  help  me!"  she  prayed,  with  a  sudden 
lifting  of  her  eyes.  "Oh,  God,  help  me!  I'm  so  weak. 
I'm  so  tired.  I've  so  little  strength  left  to  keep  the 
struggle  up." 

Her  breath  came  in  hard  gasps,  the  tears  blinded  her. 
She  had  just  time  to  control  herself,  and  dash  her  hand 
across  her  eyes,  as  she  saw  Wiltshire  coming  towards 
her  through  the  trees. 

She  was  not  surprised.  She  knew  he  would  be  look- 
ing for  her  somewhere  in  the  grounds.  During  the 
week  after  their  first  meeting,  he  had  come  every  second 
day  to  the  Pavilion  de  la  Reine.  During  the  week  after 
that,  his  visits  had  been  daily.  In  the  third  week, 
Trafford  had  invited  him  to  move  out  to  Versailles  and 
become  their  guest. 

To  this  arrangement  Paula  had  given  the  welcome  of 
acquiescence.  Though  she  was  aware  of  what  her 
father  meant,  she  was  sensible,  too,  of  the  relief  which 
Wiltshire's  presence  brought  into  the  tension  of  their 
daily  life.  Whenever  he  was  with  them  there  was  a 
return  to  something  like  the  old-time  happiness.  Her 

253 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

father  seemed  to  grow  younger  in  his  society,  and  she 
herself  drew  comfort  from  the  knowledge  that  this  good 
man's  support  was  near.  She  could  not  bear  to  check 
his  gentle,  tentative  advances;  still  less  could  she  bear 
to  give  back  cold  refusal  to  the  silent  pleading  in  her 
father's  eyes. 

Little  by  little  she  began  to  see  all  that  this  marriage 
would  mean  to  him.  It  would  be  more  now  than  any- 
thing he  had  said  when  he  had  first  spoken  of  it,  months 
ago.  Then  the  advantages  of  protection  and  position 
were  to  be  for  her;  now  she  could  see  that  he  was  not 
without  need  of  them  himself.  It  gave  her  a  feeling 
that  the  foundations  of  the  earth  were  loosened  to  think 
that  he,  whom  she  had  looked  upon  as  almost  omnipo- 
tent, should  require  aid.  But  there  was  no  doubt  that 
his  position  in  the  world  was  shaken — as  much  so  as  his 
moral  courage  or  his  bodily  frame.  The  strong,  re- 
sourceful, self-dependent  man  had  reached  the  moment 
when  he  was  beginning  to  hold  out  his  hands  for  help. 

It  was  help  which  she  could  give  him  only  to  the  ex- 
tent of  her  love  and  tenderness.  These  she  could  still 
offer  to  the  father, when  she  had  nothing  for  the  financier. 
From  the  clamor  of  his  countrymen  against  him  she 
would  gladly  have  transported  him  into  another  world, 
where  all  attack  would  be  powerless.  She  remembered 
suddenly  that  it  was  what  he  had  wanted  to  do  for  her, 
when  he  had  been  eager  to  see  her  become  Wiltshire's 
wife.  The  reflection  struck  her  like  a  blow,  but  she 
did  her  best  to  remain  firm  and  calm  beneath  the  weight 
of  it.  The  other  world  for  her,  she  argued,  would  be 

254 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

the  other  world  for  him.  That  was  clear.  With  Wilt- 
shire as  a  son  to  him,  he  would  have  an  ally  whose 
strength  it  would  be  hard  to  overestimate.  She  had  no 
skill  in  calculation,  and  little  knowledge  of  the  world; 
and  yet  she  could  not  be  unaware  that  an  English  duke, 
rich,  powerful,  highly  placed,  and  full  of  good-will  and 
sympathy,  could  not  be  other  than  an  able  friend  to  any 
man  with  needs  and  ambitions  like  her  father's. 

So  the  days  at  Versailles  were  slipping  by,  with  cour- 
age growing  in  Wiltshire's  heart  and  hope  brightening 
in  Traffbrd's,  while  in  her  own  she  was  searching  for 
strength  to  make  the  sacrifice. 

As  Wiltshire  drew  near,  his  increased  confidence  was 
expressed  in  his  eyes,  his  smile,  his  attitude,  and  the 
very  tones  of  his  voice.  It  was  not  until  he  had  drawn 
a  wicker  chair  near  to  hers  that  he  noticed  the  emo- 
tion she  had  been  unable  to  conceal. 

"You've  been  crying,"  he  exclaimed. 

"Not  quite,"  she  said,  trying  to  smile  at  him  through 
the  mist  of  her  tears.  "I've  been  reading  this." 

She  held  up  the  magazine,  at  which  Wiltshire  looked 
with  a  certain  air  of  embarrassment. 

"You  know  what's  in  it,"  she  went  on,  as  he  said 
nothing.  "You've  read  it,  too." 

"I  hope  you  don't  let  these  things  distress  you,"  he 
said,  after  a  minute's  hesitation. 

"If  they  were  said  of  your  father,  wouldn't  they  dis- 
tress you  ?" 

He  leaned  forward  and  drew  the  magazine  gently 
from  her  hands. 

255 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"  It's  always  well  to  remember,"  he  said,  in  a  kindly 
voice,  "that  one  story  is  true  till  another  is  told.  It's 
perfectly  astonishing  how  many  different  versions  you 
can  get  of  what  seems  like  one  plain,  unvarnished 
tale." 

"Oh  yes;  like  the  'Ring  and  the  Book,'  for  instance. 
But  this,"  she  continued,  with  a  little  break  in  the  voice 
— "this  doesn't  seem  to  me  the  same  sort  of  thing. 
There  you  have  different  points  of  view,  and  here  it's 
a  succession  of  facts." 

"Facts  are  to  the  writer  what  objects  are  to  the 
painter.  He  produces  different  impressions  as  he 
presents  them  in  different  lights.  The  writer  of  these 
articles  has  chosen  the  atmosphere  which  will  be  most 
unfavorable  to  your  father.  Some  one  else  might  treat 
the  very  same  incidents  in  a  way  which  would  give  you 
quite  another  effect." 

"Could  any  one  treat  them  in  a  way  that  would  prove 
that — that  everything  was  right  ?" 

"Suppose  they  couldn't,"  he  reasoned,  gently;  "even 
so,  we've  one  important  condition  to  remember,  and 
that  is  the  imperfect  conception  of  honor  that  exists 
in  the  financial  world." 

"I  don't  see  why  that  should  make  any  difference," 
she  declared,  with  a  touch  of  honest  indignation. 

"It  does  in  this  way,  that  it's  very  hard  for  any  but 
the  highest  moral  natures  to  be  superior  to  the  sur- 
roundings «,n  which  they  live.  That  is,  it's  a  phase 
of  the  much-discussed  question  of  environment.  It's 
even  more  than  that.  It's  a  phase  of  the  far  larger 

256 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

question  of  the  standard  of  rectitude  by  which  the 
human  race  chooses  to  measure  its  public  conduct. 
No  one  can  deny  the  fact  that  it's  far  from  an  ideal  one. 
While  we  accept  in  theory  the  principles  of  honor  and 
honesty  and  fair  dealing  and  truth,  we  have  recognized 
systems  of  not  living  up  to  them.  Some  of  our  most 
respected  institutions  would  have  to  be  made  all  over 
again,  if  we  were  to  put  forth  any  pretension  to  follow 
the  Golden  Rule  of  Christ." 

The  tiny  furrow  deepened  between  her  brows,  and 
she  regarded  him  with  the  expression  of  perplexity  he 
had  not  seen  for  so  many  months.  She  was  trying  to 
understand  the  strange  method  by  which  men  regulated 
their  affairs,  and  of  which  even  Wiltshire  spoke  with 
tolerance. 

"What  institutions,  for  example?" 

"Well — take  the  governments  of  the  world  as  an  il- 
lustration. They're  fairly  good  governments,  on  the 
whole — most  of  them.  And  yet  practically  all  are  in- 
spired by  an  insatiable  greed,  and  the  most  ferocious 
determination  to  make  one  country's  gain  out  of  an- 
other country's  loss.  It's  not  much  of  an  exaggeration 
to  say  that  envy,  hatred,  and  malice  are  the  normal 
sentiments  of  every  nation  towards  every  other.  You 
can't  open  a  newspaper,  even  in  the  most  piping  times 
of  peace,  without  seeing  that  the  growling  of  cabinets 
at  each  other,  in  London,  Paris,  Berlin,  St.  Petersburg, 
Washington,  Vienna,  Tokio,  and  Rome,  is  as  savage 
and  incessant  as  that  of  a  team  of  Esquimaux  dogs. 
We  have  a  whole  honored  profession  whose  duties  are 

257 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

in  the  field  of  hoodwinking,  half-truths,  and  evasion. 
We  dress  it  up  in  gold  lace  and  a  cocked  hat,  and  give 
it  a  high  place  in  our  society.  We  have  another  pro- 
fession, of  which  the  work  is  to  shed  blood  and  wreck 
homes  and  spread  ruin.  We  give  it  a  sword  and  a 
uniform,  and  call  it  noble.  Now,  I  cite  these  merely 
as  examples  of  the  way  in  which  mankind  contents  it- 
self with  a  defective  moral  standard.  It's  difficult  to 
blame  the  soldier  if  he  kills,  or  the  diplomat  if  he  equivo- 
cates, or  the  statesman  if  he  crushes  another  people  to 
aggrandize  his  own.  It's  what's  expected.  It's  the 
way  the  world  acts." 

"I  don't  see  that  that  makes  it  any  better,"  she  ar- 
gued, with  feminine  dislike  of  compromise. 

"It  doesn't  make  the  act  any  better,  perhaps,  but  it 
helps  us  to  understand  the  agent.  Few  people  question, 
few  people  are  able  to  question,  the  moral  conditions 
they  find  around  them.  They  accept  them  and  live  in 
them.  And,"  he  added,  significantly,  "most  men  en- 
gaged in  financial  affairs  do  like  the  others." 

"You  mean  that  they  conform  to  a  low  standard." 
"I'm  afraid  that's  what  I  have  to  mean." 
"And  I  always  thought  my  father's  standard  was  so 
high.     That's  what  hurts  me.     Oh,  Duke,  don't  think 
that  I'm  blaming  him,  or  trying  to  argue  against  him. 
I  oughtn't  to  talk  of  it  at  all,  perhaps.     But  I'm  so 
very  unhappy,  and  I've  no  one  in  the  world  to  speak  to, 
as  I  can  to  you." 

"I  like  you  to  speak  to  me  about  it.  It's  possible 
that  I  can  help  you.  And  in  any  case  I  know  that  you 

258 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

could  never  harbor  a  disloyal  thought  towards  any  one 
in  the  world — and  least  of  all  towards  him." 

"You  see,"  she  stammered,  "it's  all  so — so  ignoble." 

"Doesn't  it  give  it  a  somewhat  different  aspect  when 
you  consider  that  it's  probably  not  more  ignoble  than 
what's  going  on  in  eight  business  houses  out  of  ten,  in 
London,  Paris,  New  York,  and  every  other  great  city 
in  the  world  ?" 

"I  don't  see  that  a  wrong  thing  becomes  less  wrong 
because  a  great  many  people  do  it." 

"Perhaps  not;  and  yet  if  we  know  that  public  opinion 
is  wrong  it  helps  us  to  make  allowances  for  the  in- 
dividuals who  are  governed  by  it.  And  that's  what  I 
assert  about  the  commercial  and  financial  worlds — 
their  moral  tone  is  defective;  their  conception  of  honesty 
is  imperfect.  The  so-called  revelations  made,  let  us 
say,  by  the  Crcnier  tragedy  in  Paris,  and  the  Insurance 
scandals  in  New  York,  are  not  revelations  at  all. 
Every  one  who  has  much  to  do  with  business  knows 
that  to  make  money  by  hook  or  by  crook,  but  to  make 
it  somehow,  is  the  one  law  of  the  game.  The  people 
who  are  shocked  are  chiefly  the  people  who  haven't 
made  it.  And  that's  the  sort  of  virtuous  indignation  I 
find  in  these  articles  about  your  father.  I've  read  them 
carefully,  over  the  lines  and  between  the  lines,  and  for 
one  word  against  his  methods  I  find  twenty  against 
his  success.  You  see,  Paula — I  may  call  you  Paula, 

'^    T  5» 

mayn  t  1  r 

"  If  you  like,"  she  murmured,  letting  her  eyes  drop. 
"You  see — Paula — that  you  and  I,  whose  ideas  are 
259 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

different,  ought  not  to  be  surprised  if  a  man  like  your 
father,  who  has  probably  not  studied  the  question  of 
ethics  to  any  great  extent,  conforms  to  the  general  stand- 
ard around  him.  After  all,  he's  only  in  the  same  case 
with  thousands  of  other  men,  who,  on  every  point  but 
that  of  making  money,  are  among  the  most  high- 
minded  in  the  world." 

"I  know  you  want  to  comfort  me — " 

"I  should  like  to  do  more  than  comfort  you,"  he 
said,  with  a  sudden  change  of  tone. 

"It's  the  money,"  she  hurried  on,  confusedly,  giving 
him  a  frightened  glance.  "There's  so  much  of  it,  and 
it  will  all  come  to  me.  I  shall  have  to  take  it.  It 
would  kill  papa  if  he  thought  I  wouldn't.  I  don't  want 
it.  I  hate  it.  If  I  could  only  find  a  way  to  give  it 
back—" 

"Paula,  let  me  say  something.  Perhaps  I'm  daring 
too  much,  but  I'm  going  to  take  the  risk.  Did  you 
know  I'd  begun  to  hope  again  ?  No,  don't  speak.  I'm 
not  going  to  ask  you  the  same  question  as  at  Monaco. 
I  shall  ask  none  at  all.  I've  thought  more  than  once 
since  then  that  perhaps  I  was  wrong  not  to  accept 
just  what  you  could  give  me.  I  feel  it  the  more  strongly 
now,  when  I  think  I  have  something  better  to  offer  you 
than  anything  I  had  then." 

"Oh,  but  you  couldn't  have!" 

"If  it  isn't  something  better,  it's  possibly  something 
of  which  you  have  more  need.  I  know  your  trouble, 
and  I  understand  it.  I  don't  believe  that  anybody  in 
the  world  could  feel  with  you  more  thoroughly  than  I. 

260 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

It's  my  trouble,  too.  It  couldn't  be  more  my  own,  if  I 
was — your  father's  son." 

Paula  gave  a  little  start.  The  words  were  so  exactly 
the  utterance  of  her  own  thought  that  they, sounded  to 
her  like  the  summons  of  destiny.  While  she  sat  out- 
wardly composed — pale,  still,  with  hands  clasped  and 
eyes  downcast,  her  heart  was  calling  its  last  drown- 
ing farewells  before  going  down  into  the  sea  of  sac- 
rifice. 

"It's  coming  now,"  she  was  saying  to  herself.  "I 
can't  help  it.  I  can't  cling  any  longer.  I  must  let  go. 
Oh,  Roger,  good-bye!" 

"And  since  the  trouble  is  not  only  yours  but  mine," 
Wiltshire  went  on,  tenderly,  "why  couldn't  I  bear  it 
with  you?" 

"I  don't  think  anybody  could." 

"Nobody  could  but  I.  I  could.  I  could  take  you, 
and  shelter  you,  and  hedge  you  all  round  with  so  much 
protection,  that  this  great  question,  so  insistent  in  your 
life  now,  would  pass  into  the  second  plane." 

She  lifted  her  eyes  in  interrogation. 

"This  is  what  I  mean,"  he  pursued,  quietly.  "To 
my  wife  even  such  a  great  acquisition  of  wealth  as  you 
might  receive  from  your  father  could  make  no  ex- 
ternal difference.  It  would  increase  her  actual  pos- 
sessions, but  it  would  add  nothing  to  her  outward  train 
of  life.  From  the  mere  necessities  of  her  position,  that 
would  already  be  as  sumptuous  and  splendid  as  it's 
right  for  any  one's  life  to  be.  Whatever  came  in  ad- 
dition would  be  a  mere  pouring  of  the  Pacific  into  the 

261 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Atlantic.  You  won't  think  that  I'm  speaking  in  vulgar 
boastfulness — " 

"Oh  no." 

"I'm  only  stating  the  facts  as  they  are.  Don't  you 
see,  then,  what  I  mean  ?  If  you  were  my  wife,  all  this 
money  could  come  to  you,  and  you  could  use  it  as  you 
chose.  No  one  would  know,  not  even  your  father, 
that  you  didn't  spend  it  on  yourself.  You  could  give 
it  away  to  the  last  farthing.  You  could  do  more  than 
that.  I  know  that  your  aim  would  be  not  merely  to  give 
the  money  away,  but;  as  far  as  possible,  to  give  it  back 
to  the  people  who  used  to  own  it.  I  would  help  you 
in  that.  We  should  make  it  our  life's  work.  It  would 
be  a  difficult  task,  and  I  don't  know  how  far  we  should 
be  successful,  but  at  least  we  could  try  it.  Here,  in 
these  pages,"  he  went  on,  tapping  the  cover  of  the 
magazine,  "there  is  mention  made  of  hundreds  of 
families.  We  could  hunt  them  up  and  see  what  we 
could  do.  We  should  have  to  work  discreetly,  cau- 
tiously, secretly,  perhaps,  and  safeguard  in  every  way 
the  honor  of  your  father's  name.  But  we  could  do 
our  best;  and  even  if  we  only  succeeded  once  it  would 
be  worth  the  trying.  Wouldn't  it  mean  something  to 
you  just  to  be  making  the  attempt  ?" 

"How  good  you  are!     How  well  you  understand!" 

"I  do  understand,  Paula,  dear.  That's  my  one  jus- 
tification for  offering  you  a  sort  of  bribe.  And  yet, 
God  knows,  I  don't  mean  it  as  a  bribe.  It's  only  the 
eagerness  of  my  love  to  protect  you  from  everything 
that  could  hurt  you  or  make  you  unhappy.  When  the 

262 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

gods  of  old  saw  those  they  loved  in  trouble  or  danger, 
they  threw  a  cloud  about  them  and  snatched  them 
away  into  a  place  of  safety.  And  that's  what  I  want  to 
do  for  you,  Paula.  I  can  do  it,  if  you'll  let  me.  When 
I  see  you  in  the  midst  of  this  huge,  unworthy  battle, 
I'm  in  terror  lest  some  of  its  arrows  may  wound  you. 
But  as  my  wife  you'd  be  safe — that  is,  as  safe  as  any 
earthly  conditions  can  make  you.  I  won't  force  the 
great  question  between  us.  I  won't  ask  you  again  if 
you  love  me — " 

"Oh,  Duke,"  she  broke  in,  impulsively,  "I  do  love 
you — in  a  way." 

"Then  I  won't  ask  you  what  that  way  is,"  he  said, 
quickly.  "If  you  can  say  as  much  as  that,  I  shall  be 
content." 

When  a  minute  or  two  had  passed  in  silence,  he  took 
her  hand  and  raised  it  to  his  lips.  Leaning  back,  with 
eyes  closed,  she  allowed  him  to  repeat  the  caress.  But 
she  was  thinking  of  the  day  when,  beneath  the  ques- 
tioning eyes  of  the  woman  in  black  and  green,  Winship 
had  told  her  that  he  loved  her. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THERE  were  several  reasons  for  keeping  the  fact 
of  Paula's  engagement  to  the  Duke  of  Wiltshire 
a  temporary  secret  from  the  outside  world.  Trafford 
himself  was  receiving  only  too  much  publicity  at  the 
time,  and  he  shrank  from  seeing  his  daughter's  name 
brought  prominently  into  the  American  press,  as  it 
would  be  if  the  news  were  known  even  to  a  few.  As 
the  wedding  was  to  take  place  in  January,  it  was  de- 
cided that  it  would  be  soon  enough  after  Christmas  to 
let  the  information  get  abroad. 

These  details  were  arranged  between  Wiltshire  and 
Trafford  alone.  Paula  acquiesced  with  a  submission 
which  barely  concealed  her  listlessness.  The  two  men 
gave  themselves  up  to  the  enjoyment  of  their  happi- 
ness with  an  odd  unanimity.  They  made  confidants 
of  each  other,  and  discussed  their  respective  hopes  far 
into  every  night.  Paula  was  posed  like  a  goddess  in  a 
shrine,  while  they  found  mutual  delight  in  singing 
hymns  and  weaving  garlands  in  her  praise.  They 
were,  in  fact,  too  busy  with  the  service  of  the  temple 
to  observe  that  their  divinity  grew  thinner  and  thinner 
and  paler  and  paler,  day  by  day.  Because  she  smiled 
at  them,  and  consented  to  all  their  arrangements,  they 

264 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

failed  to  notice  that,  in  the  hours  they  spent  together, 
the  number  of  words  she  uttered  could  be  counted. 

It  was  not  till  they  returned  to  Paris  for  Christmas 
and  the  wedding  that  Trafford  and  Wiltshire  received 
the  first  shock  of  enlightenment. 

"What  have  you  been  doing  to  her  ?"  more  than  one 
old  friend  exclaimed.  "If  I  had  met  her  in  the  street, 
I  don't  believe  I  should  have  known  her." 

The  impression  made  on  the  father  and  the  lover 
was  one  of  uneasiness  rather  than  of  alarm.  Instead 
of  their  plans  for  London  in  February,  with  the  open- 
ing of  Parliament  and  the  presentation  of  the  new 
Duchess  at  an  early  Court,  they  began  to  talk  of  Egypt, 
Algiers,  and  Biskra.  Trafford  had  no  doubt  that  she 
would  be  better  when  she  was  married.  Wiltshire  was 
sure  she  would  regain  strength  and  color  in  the  eager- 
ness of  putting  into  practice  the  great  scheme  of  resti- 
tution they  had  planned. 

It  was  for  this  reason  that  he  began  thinking  over 
the  matter  of  the  million  to  be  forced  upon  Winship. 
He  had  done  nothing  in  that  cause  as  yet,  though  Traf- 
ford had  referred  to  it  once  or  twice  as  a  promise  Wilt- 
shire had  made  him.  The  business  which  had  been 
repugnant  at  first  began  to  have  aspects  that  appealed 
to  him  when  he  thought  of  the  pleasure  his  success 
would  give  Paula. 

During  the  three  months  since  they  had  become  en- 
gaged, he  had  been  slowly  forming  his  own  theory  of 
the  situation  between  her  and  Winship.  That  there 
was  a  situation  was  clear  to  him  from  the  something 
18  265 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

guarded  in  her  words  and  attitude,  whenever  his  name 
was  mentioned.  The  young  man  had  fallen  in  love  with 
her,  he  thought,  and  had  asked  her  to  be  his  wife.  She 
had  resented  rhe  liberty,  while,  woman-like,  she  had 
condoned  the  offence.  The  opportunity  had  been 
taken  to  offer  him  the  money  Trafford  was  so  eager 
to  get  off  his  conscience,  and  Winship  had  refused  the 
proposal,  as  an  outrage  to  his  dignity. 

The  more  Wiltshire  reflected,  the  more  exactly  did 
this  version  seem  to  fit  the  facts  of  the  case.  The  ele- 
ments it  presented  were  not  very  difficult  for  a  man  of 
the  world  to  deal  with;  and  so,  on  a  bright  afternoon 
in  January,  he  set  out  for  the  studio  in  the  Passage  de 
la  Nativite.  If  he  could  come  back  with  the  news  that 
the  victory  had  been  won,  he  knew  that  to  Paula  the 
tidings  would  be  more  precious  as  a  gift  than  all  the 
jewels  he  could  offer  her. 

And  yet,  when  face  to  face  with  the  artist  in  the 
atelier,  Wiltshire  found  the  subject  less  easy  to  intro- 
duce than  he  had  expected.  Like  the  other  actors  in  the 
drama,  Winship,  too,  had  changed  much  during  the 
passage  of  a  twelvemonth.  With  the  exception  of  a 
few  minutes  on  two  occasions  at  Monte  Carlo  in  the 
previous  winter,  the  Duke  had  seen  nothing  of  Winship 
for  several  years.  He  still  thought  of  him  as  "Alice's 
protege,"  a  clever,  hard-working,  immature  young  man, 
to  whom  he  could  speak  with  a  certain  amount  of 
authority.  It  disturbed  his  ideas  at  the  outset  to  dis- 
cover that  time,  assurance,  and  success  had  evolved 
a  personage  quite  different  from  that  which  he  had 

266 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

thought  to  find.  He  had  the  disagreeable  sensation 
with  which  the  patron  always  sees  that  his  subordinate 
has  sprung  on  to  a  level  with  himself.  In  theory,  he 
would  have  been  the  last  person  in  the  world  to  object 
to  it;  but,  in  fact,  it  caused  him  something  akin  to  irri- 
tation. The  very  ease  with  which  Winship  welcomed 
him  seemed  to  lack  respect.  The  matter-of-course  hos- 
pitality with  which  he  offered  him  an  extremely  good 
cigar  seemed  to  savor  of  the  man  who  has  made  money 
quickly.  Winship's  keen  eyes  and  hard  mouth  and 
determined  manner  were  so  much  at  variance  with  the 
timid  deference  of  the  lad  of  eight  or  ten  years  ago  that 
Wiltshire  found  his  sense  of  annoyance  deepening  as 
the  conversation  passed  from  one  topic  to  another.  He 
knew  at  last  that,  if  the  object  of  his  errand  were  to  be 
attained,  it  must  be  by  diving  into  the  subject  brusque- 
ly; and  so  he  tried  to  jerk  himself  back  into  the  manner 
of  speaking  that  would  have  been  natural  with  "Alice's 
protege"  on  one  of  his  annual  visits  to  Edenbridge, 
years  ago. 

"I  say,  Winship,"  he  began,  suddenly,  "I've  looked 
in  on  you  to  offer  you  some  advice." 

"That's  very  kind  of  you,  Duke,"  Winship  returned, 
easily.  "  I'm  sure  I  must  need  it,  when  you  put  your- 
self to  so  much  trouble." 

"I  rather  think  you  do.  We  all  require  a  friendly 
word  at  one  time  or  another  in  our  lives." 

"I've  wanted  it  many  a  time,  when  I  didn't  get  it," 
Winship  laughed,  "and  so  I'm  all  the  more  grateful 
to  you  now." 

267 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

There  was  a  minute's  hesitation,  during  which  Wilt- 
shire flicked  the  ashes  from  the  end  of  his  cigar  with 
his  little  finger.  He  seemed  to  be  quite  absorbed  in 
that  operation,  while  Winship  waited,  in  not  unnatural 
curiosity. 

"I  believe,"  Wiltshire  said  at  last,  "that  there's 
been  some  little  misunderstanding  between  you  and 
my  friend,  Mr.  Paul  Trafford." 

Winship's  manner  changed  at  once.  His  hard  mouth 
became  harder,  and  he  sat  rigidly  upright  in  his  chair, 
fixing  Wiltshire  with  the  stare  of  his  brilliant  eyes. 

"On  the  contrary,"  he  said,  quietly.  "Your  friend, 
Mr.  Paul  Trafford,  and  I  understand  each  other  very 
well." 

The  slightly  ironical  tone  gave  an  additional  prick 
to  the  Duke's  mild  temper. 

"Now,  don't  be  an  ass,  Winship,"  he  said,  impa- 
tiently. "Mr.  Trafford  has  been  extremely  magnani- 
mous to  you,  and  you've  been  behaving  like  an  imbecile. 
Any  man  of  the  world  would  tell  you  that." 

"Are  you  in  his  confidence,  Duke?" 

"I  am  to  the  extent  of  knowing  what  he  would  be 
-willing  to  do  for  you." 

"And  his  reasons  for  wishing  to  do  it?" 

"That,  I  understand,  is  one  which  does  him  credit. 
He  has  learned  that  in  certain  transactions  with  your 
family,  some  years  ago,  the  loss  entailed  on  you  is 
greater  than  it  should  have  been.  He  is  eager  now  to 
jnake  the  loss  good.  That's  all." 

"I  wonder  if  that's  his  way  of  putting  it,  or  yours  ?" 
268 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"That  has  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

"No,  it  hasn't.  It's  merely  a  matter  of  curiosity  on 
my  part,  because  it's  rather  neat.  Your  friend,  Mr. 
Paul  Trafford,  has  been  a  long  time  learning  the  fact 
of  which  you  speak.  His  mind  must  have  been  recent- 
ly opened  to  knowledge.  Perhaps,"  Winship  added, 
laying  his  hand  on  a  pile  of  numbers  of  the  New  York 
Magazine  that  were  within  reach — "perhaps  he  got 
some  of  his  information  here." 

"Rot!"  Wiltshire  exclaimed,  contemptuously.  "If 
you're  going  to  be  guided  by  stuff  like  that — " 

"No,  no,  not  at  all.  There's  very  little  here  that  I 
didn't  learn  with  my  catechism.  My  sister,  Marah, 
would  be  an  excellent  historian  of  that  great  man's 
life.  She's  followed  his  career,  and  treasured  his  say- 
ings, and  marked  his  doings  down,  as  Boswell  never 
did  with  Johnson.  I  grew  up  to  the  knowledge  of  it 
all  as  I  did  to  the  art  of  painting." 

"That's  very  natural.  Your  sister  is  a  woman  who 
has  suffered  much.  She  has  her  own  point  of  view, 
from  which  you  couldn't  move  her.  But  I  shouldn't 
think  a  man  like  you  would  go  by  any  opinion  but  his 
own." 

"I  don't.  In  all  that  my  sister  feels  towards  your 
friend,  Mr.  Trafford,  I  entirely  agree  with  her." 

"But  on  slightly  different  grounds,  I  presume." 

There  was  something  so  significant  in  the  Duke's  tone 
that  Winship  looked  at  him  a  minute  before  replying. 

"Possibly,"  he  admitted  at  last.  "I'm  not  sure 
that  I  follow  you,  but — " 

269 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Oh  yes,  you  do,  Winship.  You  follow  me  well 
enough.  Don't  let  us  have  any  beating  about  the  bush. 
The  matter  is  too  serious  for  that.  I  may  say  that  I'm 
here  in  the  interests  of  all  the  parties  concerned.  Have 
I  your  permission  to  speak  right  out,  as  an  old  friend, 
and,  perhaps,  one  of  your  best  friends  ?" 

"Certainly,  Duke;  but  if  your  object  is  to  get  me  to 
accept  money — " 

"That's  my  first  object,  but  not  the  most  important 
one.  I  must  say  that  for  a  man  like  you  to  refuse  a 
sum  that  would  raise  him  to  a  position  of  affluence 
seems  to  me  insane.  As  I  understand,  it's  money  to 
which  you  put  forth  a  claim." 

"No,  no,  Duke.  May  I  correct  you?  The  system 
by  which  your  friend,  Mr.  Paul  Trafford,  ruined  my 
family  was  a  perfectly  legal  one,  leaving  us  no  claim 
at  all.  His  plan  of  attack  is  always  to  dodge  behind 
the  law,  whenever  any  one  attempts  to  defend  himself 
or  to  hit  back.  Where  there  are  no  laws  to  shelter  him, 
he  buys  legislatures  to  pass  them.  It's  a  very  safe 
method,  and  stops  effectually  anything  like  what  you 
call  a  claim — unless  it  be  a  moral  one." 

"Then  let's  say  a  moral  one.  That's  the  second 
point  I  want  to  make.  The  whole  matter  is  removing 
itself  to  moral  grounds,  to  a  greater  degree  than  you 
may  be  likely  to  think  probable.  Traffbrd's  not  a  bad 
sort,  at  heart.  He's  far  from  being  the  cold,  calculat- 
ing monster  the  fellows  in  that  magazine  would  try  to 
make  him  out.  To  my  mind  he's  one  of  your  char- 
acteristic American  primitives,  possessed  by  the  fury 

270 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

of  making  money,  as  earlier  primitives  were  possessed 
by  the  fury  of  battle.  And,  just  as  with  them  the  zest 
lay  not  so  much  in  the  conquest  as  in  the  fight,  so  with 
him  it's  not  so  much  in  the  money  as  in  the  game  of 
getting  it.  Now  that  he's  had  enough  of  the  sport, 
now  that  the  money  is  piled  up  around  him,  other 
primitive  impulses  are  beginning  to  awaken.  I  won- 
der if  you  can  guess  ?" 

"I  needn't  guess.  I  know.  It  was  never  an  un- 
usual thing  for  the  robber-baron  to  be  seized  with  re- 
morse." 

"That's  it.  You've  hit  it.  It's  a  curious  thing  to 
watch,  as  I've  had  the  opportunity  of  doing  in  the  past 
few  months,  the  slow  dawning  in  the  mind  of  this  gi- 
gantic, materialistic,  spiritually  inorganic  creature  of 
the  knowledge  that  he  has  a  soul.  It's  like  the  first 
uneasy  groping  after  higher  things  on  the  part  of  pre- 
historic man.  There's  something  in  it  which  is  at 
once  amusing  and  terrible.  Simple  conceptions  of  rec- 
titude, that  are  matters  of  course  to  you  and  me,  are 
strange,  new  discoveries  to  him.  On  Trafford's  part  it 
translates  itself  by  the  repetition  of  a  certain  phrase — 
'To  make  me  successful  a  good  many  poor  devils  have 
had  to  fail.  By  George,  I'd  like  to  set  them  on  their 
feet  again!'  Now,  I  say,  Winship,  why  should  you, 
from  a  mere  sense  of  pride,  block  the  path  to  a  blind 
man,  feeling  his  way  to  doing  what's  right  ?" 

"And  not  make  his  repentance  as  easy  for  him  as 
possible?"  Winship  added.  "That's  what  you  meanv 
isn't  it?" 

271 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"Something  of  the  sort,*'  Wiltshire  admitted. 

"Then  I  may  say  at  once,  Duke,  that  I've  no  inten- 
tion of  making  anything  easy  for  your  friend,  Mr.  Paul 
Trafford,  that  I  can  render  hard.  It's  impossible  for  a 
man  like  you,  whose  life  has  been  cushioned  from  his 
cradle,  to  enter  into  the  feelings  of  people  like  our- 
selves, who,  during  long  years,  have  been  the  victims  of 
a  great  and  wanton  wrong." 

Winship  spoke  quietly,  and  drew  two  or  three  puffs 
from  his  cigar  before  he  went  on  again. 

"  I  can  recall  the  time  when,  as  a  boy  of  eight  or  ten, 
I  first  heard  the  name  of  Trafford  whispered  in  our 
household.  From  the  way  in  which  it  was  spoken  there 
came  to  be,  in  my  imagination,  something  evil  and 
ominous  in  the  very  sound.  It  grew  to  be  the  theme 
of  all  my  parents'  conversation,  and  never  failed  to  in- 
spire anxiety,  anger,  and  fear.  I  don't  suppose  you 
know  anything  about  the  misery  a  young  lad  goes 
through  as  he  watches  his  elders  battling  with  some 
great  trouble  which  he  can't  understand.  The  thing 
is  all  the  more  terrible  from  its  impalpability  and  vague- 
ness. I  don't  exaggerate  in  the  least  when  I  say  that 
it  robbed  me  of  all  the  happy,  careless  ease  of  mind 
which  means  so  much  to  any  young  thing's  normal 
development.  I  had  no  boyhood.  Paul  Trafford 
crushed  it  out  of  me.  He  ground  us  all  into  powder,  as 
you  know  very  well.  We  all  had  to  suffer,  but  in  some 
respects  I  suffered  most,  though  no  one  took  note  of  it. 
I  was  the  lad  who  had  to  weep  behind  the  walls,  while 
the  women  went  forth  to  fight.  That  humiliation  is 
272 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

unimaginable  to  you,  who  have  probably  never  known 
an  hour's  indignity." 

"That's  all  you  know  about  it,"  Wiltshire  threw  in, 
with  a  touch  of  bitterness. 

"Well,  to  cut  it  short,"  Winship  pursued,  "I  vowed 
from  my  boyhood  to  hale  Paul  Trafford  into  some  court 
where  there  would  be  a  surer  justice  than  any  meted  out 
by  man.  It's  a  curious  fact  that,  while  I  never  saw  my 
way,  I  never  lost  the  conviction  that  some  day  I  should 
find  it.  And  I've  done  so.  I've  stumbled  into  it.  Or, 
rather,  I've  been  led  into  it  by  the  one  hand  on  earth 
that  has  power  to  inflict  on  him  the  very  chastisement  of 
Heaven." 

"You  must  mean  his  daughter's." 

"  I  do  mean  hers.  I've  found  all  the  justice  I  wanted 
in  the  fact  that  she  knows  him  as  he  is." 

"Don't  you  think  it  was  knowledge  that  might  have 
been  spared  her  ?" 

"There  can  be  no  way  of  sparing  Paul  Trafford's 
daughter,  as  long  as  the  sins  of  the  father  continue  to  be 
visited  on  the  child.  That's  a  law  which  nature  never 
relaxes.  If  there  had  been  any  way  of  escape  for  her, 
I,  of  all  men,  should  have  been  bound  to  find  it." 

"Why  you  of  all  men  ?"  Wiltshire  asked,  with  an  ef- 
fort to  maintain  his  calmness  of  tone. 

"Because  I  love  her,"  Winship  cried,  fiercely.  "Be- 
cause I'm  the  one  man  who  can  save  her.  Because  her 
one  chance  of  any  kind  of  happiness  lies  in  marrying 
me." 

The  Duke  grew  white.  His  hand  trembled  so  that, 
273 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

after  trying  to  raise  his  cigar  to  his  lips,  he  threw  it 
away.  He  knew  that  he  must  not  lose  his  self-control. 

"I  dare  say  it  isn't  unnatural  for  you  to  feel  like  that, 
Winship,"  he  said,  with  an  attempt  at  speaking  kindly. 
"And  if  you  do  care  for  Miss  Trafford,  the  way  is  open 
for  you  to  make  her  happy  as  it  is.  You  could  take  the 
money  her  father  offers  you." 

"Never!  She  knows  as  well  as  I  that  it's  impossible. 
What  the  law  has  given  him,  he  shall  keep.  If  I  touched 
a  penny  of  it,  I  should  feel  as  guilty  as  himself.  She 
knows  that.  I've  told  her.  She  didn't  understand  it 
.at  the  minute,  but  I'm  convinced  she  does  to-day. 
How  could  she  expect  me  to  take  it  when  I've  given  up 
everything — given  up  my  love — given  up  her — in  order 
to  keep  my  honor  ?  But  no!  I  haven't  given  her  up. 
The  time  will  come  when  her  love  will  bring  her  back 
to  me.  She  loves  me,  Duke,  as  I  love  her — with  that 
kind  of  love  which  is  for  once  and  always.  She  gave 
me  up  to  stay  with  him.  I  honor  her  for  it,  and  love 
her  the  more.  But  we're  young.  We  can  afford  to 
wait.  There  will  be  a  day  when  she  will  be  free  to  cast 
that  cursed  money  from  her,  and  come  to  me  without 
it,  as  she  would  have  come  already  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
him.  She  loves  me,  Duke,"  he  repeated,  speaking 
rapidly,  and  with  gestures,  "She  loves  me.  I  know 
she  will  never  change  or  love  another.  You  know  her. 
You  know  how  pure  and  holy  and  true  she  is.  I  can 
wait  for  her,  for  however  long  the  time  may  be,  she'll 
come  to  me.  I  tell  you  all  this,  Duke,  because  I  want 
you  to  understand  why  I  don't  take  the  money.  She 

274 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

herself  would  condemn  me  for  it  now.  She'll  come  to 
me,  one  day,  without  it,  and — " 

"For  God's  sake,  stop!"  Wiltshire  cried,  hoarsely. 
"Paula  is  to  marry  me  next  week." 

He  sat  rigid  and  white  in  his  chair,  his  fingers  twitch- 
ing nervously.  Winship,  leaning  from  his  own  seat, 
gazed  at  him  with  blazing  eyes. 

"Paula  is  to — ?    Oh  no,  Duke,  no." 

"Yes,"  Wiltshire  whispered,  just  above  his  breath,  as 
though  the  admission  had  in  it  something  of  the  terrible. 

"Great  God!"  Winship  muttered  to  himself,  and 
sank  back  limply  in  his  chair. 

Minutes  passed  without  sound  or  motion  on  either 
side.  Dusk  was  gathering  in  the  long  studio.  The 
high  north  light  began  to  take  on  a  faint  tinge  of  red, 
caught  from  the  winter  sunset.  The  two  men  sat  in 
such  dead  silence  that  the  mild  tinkle  of  the  door-bell 
startled  them.  Each  sprang  to  his  feet  and  stood 
listening,  as  if  in  expectation. 

"Excuse  me,"  Winship  said  at  last.  "I'm  alone 
here.  I  must  answer  it." 

"In  any  case,  I  ought  to  go,"  the  Duke  returned. 
He  followed  Winship  towards  the  door,  with  the  in- 
tention of  making  his  escape  when  the  new-comer  was 
admitted.  But  he  stopped  again  at  the  sound  of 
Winship's  voice. 

"Paula!" 

Winship  stood  with  the  door  open,  as  if  unwilling  to 
let  her  pass. 

"I  had  to  come,  Roger,"  she  answered,  from  the 
275 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

threshold.  "Don't  be  angry.  Don't  blame  me.  I've 
something  to  tell  you.  I  didn't  want  you  to  hear  it 
from  any  one  but  myself.  Oh,  Roger,  let  me  come  in. 
I  had  to  see  you  just  this  once  more.  It's  only  to  say 
good-bye." 

"Hush!"  Winship  whispered. 

But  it  was  too  late.  Paula  was  already  in  the  room, 
and  face  to  face  with  Wiltshire. 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

PHERE  was  no  hesitation  on  Paula's  part.     She 
1    went  directly  to  Wiltshire  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"I  didn't  know  you  were  here,  Duke,"  she  said, 
without  embarrassment.  "I  came  to  tell  Mr.  Winship 
something  I  wanted  him  to  learn  from  me,  myself. 
Perhaps,  if  you're  not  in  a  hurry,  you  could  come  back 
for  me." 

"If  your  carriage  is  here,"  Wiltshire  returned,  as 
calmly  as  he  could,  "I  think  I  won't  come  back.  Alice 
is  to  arrive  to-day,  and  I  told  her  to  expect  me  at  the 
Hotel  Bristol  about  five." 

"Then  you'll  bring  her  to  dinner,  won't  you  ?  She 
wrote  me  she'd  come  if  she  wasn't  too  tired  from  the 
journey." 

"That's  it,"  Wiltshire  muttered.  "We  shall  meet 
this  evening.  Good-bye,  Winship.  Au  revoir,  Paula." 

He  shook  hands  with  both,  and  departed  with  the 
dignified  air  of  a  man  who  sees  nothing  unusual  in  the 
situation.  When  the  door  closed  behind  him,  Winship 
seized  Paula's  hands  and  almost  dragged  her  to  the 
light. 

"  Paula,  you've  been  ill,"  he  cried.  "What  have  they 
been  doing  to  you  ?" 

277 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

She  released  herself  and  drew  away  from  him. 

"No,  Roger,  I  haven't  been  ill.  I  only  think  that— 
perhaps — I'm — I'm — dying." 

"My  God!"  he  muttered  to  himself.  "They'll  pay 
for  this." 

He  tried  to  take  her  in  his  arms,  but  again  she  stepped 
back  from  him. 

"No,  Roger,  don't.  We're  all  alone  here,  aren't  we  ? 
Isn't  Marah  in  ?" 

"Marah  is  out.    We're  all  alone." 

"Then  I  must  only  stay  a  minute,"  she  hurried  on. 
"I  came  to  tell  you — to  tell  you —  Oh,  Roger,  I  don't 
know  how  to  say  it.  It  seems  like  a  blasphemy,  now 
that  I'm  face  to  face  with  you  again.  It's  like  a  crime. 
I  who  love  you  so  that  I  can  make  no  pretence  at  not 
doing  it — I'm  going  to  marry  some  one  else." 

"Then  it's  true,  Paula?" 

"Yes,  it's  true,  Roger.     Did  he  tell  you  ?" 

"Oh,  it  isn't  true.  It  can't  be  true.  You  won't  do 
it.  Say  you  won't  do  it." 

"I  must  Roger.  I  have  to  do  it  for  papa's  sake. 
There  are  other  reasons,  too.  Everything  is  forcing  me 
into  it.  I  don't  know  what  else  to  do.  I'm  like  a  lost 
person.  And  I  love  you,  Roger.  I  shall  always  love 
you.  No  marriage  will  keep  me  from  doing  that." 

"Then  your  marriage  will  be  a  crime,  Paula,  as  you 
say.  You  must  reflect.  You  must  ask  yourself  if  it's 
just  towards  him." 

"Yes;  I  think  it's  quite  just.  He  knows  I  don't  love 
him — as  I  might  do." 

278 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"  But  have  you  told  him  that  you  love  some  one  else  ?" 

"He  never  asked  me.  He  said  he  wouldn't  ask  me 
anything." 

"You  must  tell  him,  Paula.  You  must  tell  him 
that  you  love  me.  He  must  hear  it  from  yourself." 

"  Oh,  Roger,  what's  the  use  ?  It  would  only  make 
new  complications,  and  I'm  so  worn  out  with  those  that 
exist  already.  I've  told  you  that  I  think  I  must  be 
dying,  and  I  believe  it.  I  don't  seem  to  have  the  force 
to  live.  There's  nothing  the  matter  with  me,  really, 
only  it's  all  been  so  hard  for  me.  You  know  I  haven't 
much  strength  of  character;  and  so,  in  the  effort  to  stand 
alone,  I've  just — sunk  down.  I've  come  to  the  point 
where  I'd  rather  they  did  just  as  they  will  with  me 
than  struggle  any  more." 

"  Oh,  Paula,  you  mustn't  feel  like  that  when  I  love  you. 
You'd  be  strong  if  you  had  my  arms  to  uphold  you." 

"Yes,"  she  smiled.  "I'd  be  strong  then.  But,  you 
see,  it  can't  be." 

"Why  can't  it  be?  Why  should  you  be  sacrificed? 
Why  should  we  both  be  sacrificed?  You're  offering 
yourself  up  in  an  effort  that  will  never  bring  happiness 
to  any  one.  Leave  it  all  behind  you,  and  come  to  me. 
Come  to  me,  as  I  asked  you  to  come,  that  day  in  June. 
You  could  go  to  England  with  Lady  Alice  Holroyd. 
She  knows  our  story,  and  we  have  her  sympathy.  I'd 
follow  you,  and  we  could  be  married  there." 

"No,  no,  Roger.  I  couldn't  do  anything  like  that. 
Don't  hope  for  it.  I  couldn't  do  anything  in  flight  or 
secrecy." 

27Q 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"You  must  be  reasonable,  Paula,  my  darling.  This 
isn't  a  matter  where  one  can  follow  the  rules  of  a  book 
of  etiquette.  It's  a  case  of  life  and  death — of  your  life 
and  your  death.  There's  no  other  question  here  than 
that  of  saving  you." 

"Nothing  can  save  me,  Roger.  The  situation  is  such 
as  to  leave  me  no  way  of  escape.  If  I  were  to  do  what 
you  suggest,  it  would  kill  my  father." 

"  But  you  mustn't  let  him  kill  you." 

"He  doesn't  mean  to.  He  hasn't  a  thought  but  for 
my  happiness.  You  remember  how  he  yielded  in 
everything  last  spring.  If  you  could  only  have  ac- 
cepted his  offer — " 

"Suppose  I  did  it  now,  Paula.  Would  that  help 
you  ?  Would  it  make  you  any  happier  ?" 

"I  couldn't  let  you  do  it  now.  I  know  things  now 
that  I  didn't  know  then.  I  see  that  you  were  right.  I 
see  that  you  couldn't  take  the  money.  I'm  glad  you 
didn't  accept  it,  even  for  my  sake.  But  I  have  to  keep 
it.  I  can't  separate  myself  from  my  father,  to  secure 
either  your  happiness  or  mine.  It's  especially  my  duty 
to  be  loyal  to  him  now,  when  so  many  others  are  con- 
demning him." 

She  moved  away  from  the  window  and  dropped  into 
a  chair. 

"I'll  sit  down  a  minute,"  she  murmured.  "I'm  not 
very  strong,  and  I'm  easily  tired." 

"Let  me  get  you  some  tea,"  he  begged.  "I  can  do  it 
quite  quickly,  even  though  I'm  alone  here." 

"No,  don't  do  that.  I've  only  a  minute  to  stay. 
280 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Perhaps  I  shouldn't  have  come  at  all.  But  I  couldn't 
face — what  I  have  to  do  next  week — without  seeing 
you  once  again.  I  shall  feel  stronger  now,  and  more 
resigned." 

"  It's  monstrous,  Paula,"  Winship  broke  out,  bitterly. 
"You  must  not  throw  away  your  life — " 

"Roger,  dear,"  she  said,  softly,  "don't  let  us  talk 
any  more  about  it.  Take  a  chair  and  sit  near  me. 
There — not  quite  so  near — there.  Now  let  me  look 
about  this  dear  room.  You  know  I  haven't  been  in  it 
since  the  day  your  mother  joined  our  hands  together. 
That's  her  chair,"  she  continued,  gazing  around  the 
darkening  room.  "There's  Marah's  table,  with  her 
paints  and  brushes.  There's  your  easel,  and  the  lay- 
figures,  and  the  old  piano.  Ah,  how  familiar  it  all  is! 
I  was  so  happy  during  the  weeks  I  used  to  come  here. 
You  didn't  know  what  bliss  it  was  to  me  to  sit  before 
you,  to  hear  you  talk,  and  watch  you  work.  I  didn't 
know  it  myself  then.  I  was  anxious  and  fearful,  al- 
ready, wondering  how  it  was  to  end.  But  now,  as  I 
look  back,  I  can  see  that  that  was  the  good  time.  Why 
couldn't  I  have  been  some  girl-student,  like  those  I  see 
at  the  Art  Club  ? — whom  you  might  have  loved,  who 
might  have  loved  you,  with  no  great,  vexed  question 
between  us.  How  happy  I  should  have  been  if  I'd  been 
poor.  That's  what  nature  meant  me  for.  I've  often 
wondered  why  I  could  never  feel  as  if  wealth  were  a 
matter  of  course  to  me,  like  so  many  girls  I  know,  who 
would  think  it  strange  if  they  didn't  have  all  the  money 
they  want  to  spend.  I  suppose  it's  because  I'm  like  the 
«•  281 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

people  I'm  descended  from.  I've  been  reading  about 
them  in  those  dreadful  articles  every  one  is  quoting. 
Jennie  O'Mara,  my  grandmother,  was  a  servant.  They 
say  I  resemble  her,  that  I  have  her  eyes.  You  see,  I'm 
nothing  but  a  simple  girl  of  the  people,  without  either 
the  instincts  or  the  antecedents  of  greatness;  and  yet 
I'm  to  be  the  richest  woman  in  the  world.  How  strange 
it  is ! — and  how  wrong !  That's  one  reason  why  I'm 
marrying  the  Duke,  Roger,  dear.  As  his  wife  I  shall  be 
able  to  slip  out  of  all  this,  without  attracting  any  notice 
to  myself.  Even  papa  needn't  know  it,  so  the  Duke 
says." 

"Paula,  don't  say  that  again,"  Winship  pleaded. 
"You  can't  marry  Wiltshire.  It's  out  of  all  reason  and 
possibility.  I'll  go  to  your  father.  I'll  take  anything — " 

She  rose  quietly  and  slipped  towards  him  through  the 
dusk.  She  laid  her  hands  on  his  shoulders  and  looked 
down  into  his  eyes. 

"I  came,  Roger,  for  help  and  strength.  You've 
given  them  to  me.  Just  to  see  you,  to  hear  your  voice, 
and  to  know  that  you  love  me  still,  has  made  me  braver. 
But  if  I  stay  any  longer  you'll  take  your  help  away. 
So  I  must  go." 

"No,  no,"  he  protested.     "Not  yet — not  yet." 

He  seized  her  hands  and  pressed  them  to  his  lips. 
When  he  released  them  she  stooped  and  kissed  him. 

"Good-bye.  Good-bye,"  she  murmured,  and  glided 
towards  the  door. 

Winship  was  wise  enough  to  let  her  pass  out,  and  go 
her  way  alone. 

282 


CHAPTER  XXV 

TADY  ALICE  HOLROYD,  dressed  still  in  her 
I—/  travelling -gown,  sat  drinking  tea  and  munching 
toast  in  Wiltshire's  sitting-room  at  the  Hotel  Bristol. 
Her  air  was  abstracted,  and,  as  she  ate,  her  gaze  was 
fixed  absently  on  one  spot  in  the  carpet. 

"I  mustn't  overdo  it,"  she  mused,  "and,  above  all,  I 
must  be  sympathetic.  It  would  spoil  everything  if  he 
thought  I  had  objections  on  my  own  account." 

So,  when  her  brother  entered,  she  rose  and  kissed  him 
cordially. 

"You  see  I've  come,"  she  exclaimed.  "I  couldn't 
wait  another  day,  after  getting  such  news  as  that." 

Wiltshire  threw  his  hat  and  over<!oat  on  one  arm- 
chair and  sank  wearily  into  another. 

"So  you've  come  to  congratulate  me,"  he  said,  in  a 
tone  of  which  the  slightly  suggested  irony  did  not 
escape  her,. 

"I've  come  to  wish  that  you  may  be  very  happy, 
Ludovic." 

"Ah!    Why  the  distinction?" 

"  I'm  not  aware  that  I  make  any  distinction.  If  I  do, 
it's  because  your  happiness  is  the  first  of  all  considera- 
tions to  me." 

283 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

"Give  me  some  tea,"  he  requested,  with  the  air  of  a 
man  who  is  very  tired. 

"Your  happiness  is  my  first  and  only  consideration," 
she  continued,  as  she  prepared  the  tea.  "  It's  very  nat- 
ural that  it  should  be.  Of  course,  you  know  as  well  as 
I  do  that  I  used  to  have  other  hopes  for  you;  but  that's 
neither  here  nor  there  when  once  you  have  made  your 
choice.  Your  wife  would  be  my  sister,  even  if  you 
picked  her  out  of  a  music-hall." 

"Well,  I  haven't  gone  as  far  as  that." 

"I'm  only  an  old  maid,  Ludovic,"  she  went  on, 
passing  him  his  cup.  "I'm  an  Englishwoman,  a  coun- 
trywoman, and  an  aristocrat.  I've  got  all  the  traditions, 
limitations,  and  prejudices  of  my  class.  I'm  neither 
modern  nor  democratic  nor  cosmopolitan.  But  all 
that  is  nothing  to  me  the  minute  you've  found  the 
woman  you  love — and  who  loves  you." 

She  pronounced  the  last  four  words  in  a  natural  tone, 
and  without  the  slightest  emphasis;  but  Wiltshire  gulped 
down  all  his  tea  at  once,  and  passed  her  back  the  cup. 

"No  one  would  ever  accuse  me  of  being  a  sentimen- 
talist," she  pursued,  as  she  filled  the  cup  again,  "but 
I've  lived  long  enough,  and  seen  enough  of  the  world, 
to  know  that  love  —  mutual  love  —  is  the  only  thing. 
Nothing  else  counts  —  neither  wealth  nor  descent  nor 
family  pride  nor  anything.  So  I  say  again,  Ludovic, 
that  if  you  love  her,  and  if  she  loves  you,  there's  no  ques- 
tion about  it  but  that  you've  done  the  best  thing  pos- 
sible. It's  a  pity  that  there  should  be  all  this  publicity 
about  her  family  history;  but  I  give  you  my  word, 

284 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Ludovic,  that  nothing  of  the  sort  shall  weigh  against  her 
with  me — as  long  as  she  loves  you." 

"Thanks,"  Wiltshire  murmured. 

"And  how  is  the  dear  thing?"  Lady  Alice  inquired, 
in  another  tone. 

"  I  think  you  may  find  her  changed.  She  isn't  very 
well." 

"Ah!" 

"You'll  see  for  yourself.  We  are  going  to  dine  with 
them  this  evening." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  changed?  You  don't  sup- 
pose she  has  anything  on  her  mind,  do  you  ?" 

"  On  her  mind  ?    What  should  she  have  ?" 

He  glanced  up  at  her  sharply,  but  he  turned  his  own 
eyes  quickly  away  before  the  scrutiny  in  hers.  He  had 
the  uncomfortable  suspicion  that  she  knew  more  of  his 
affairs  than  he  did  himself.  He  remembered  that  Win- 
ship  had  stayed  with  her  at  Edenbridge,  not  long  ago, 
and  might  easily  have  taken  her  into  his  confidence. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  Lady  Alice  responded,  vaguely. 
"Girls  often  have  ideas  which  they'll  allow  to  consume 
them  away  before  they'll  speak  of  them — and  espe- 
cially nice  girls  like  Paula." 

"I'm  afraid  I  don't  understand  you,"  Wiltshire  said, 
affecting  a  tone  of  indifference.  "I  think  I'll  go  and 
dress  now.  I  hope  they've  given  you  comfortable  rooms. 
We  ought  to  leave  here  at  eight." 

But,  having  passed  into  his  room,  he  did  not  dress. 
He  sent  his  man  away,  and  once  more  threw  himself" 
wearily  into  an  arm-chair,  where  he  sat  pondering. 

285 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

Yes,  it  was  clear  that  Alice  knew  something  that  had 
"been  kept  from  him.  Her  repetition  of  the  clause  "if 
she  loves  you,"  "  as  long  as  she  loves  you,"  which  had 
seemed  to  him  a  few  minutes  ago  like  a  stab  delivered 
unconsciously,  now  came  to  him  like  a  note  of  inten- 
tional warning.  Alice  knew  what  Winship  knew,  what 
Paula  knew,  what  Trafford  knew,  what  every  one  knew 
but  himself — that  Paula  did  not  love  him.  She  was 
marrying  him  because  she  could  not  see  what  else  to  do. 
There  had,  indeed,  never  been  any  secret  about  that. 
It  was  the  ground  on  which  he  had  approached  her. 
He  had  caught  her  in  the  snare  of  her  troubles,  and 
bribed  her  by  the  promise  of  deliverance.  He  had 
nothing  to  complain  of.  She  had  never  owned  to  loving 
him  otherwise  than — in  a  way.  He  knew  now  what  the 
way  was.  He  should  never  have  had  any  doubt  about 
it.  It  was  the  way  she  had  already  acknowledged  that 
day  at  Monaco.  It  was  in  another  way  than  that  that 
she  loved  Roger  Winship. 

As  the  name  crossed  Wiltshire's  mind  he  buried  his 
face  in  his  hands,  and  groaned.  The  life-long  humilia- 
tion, against  which  manhood  and  pride  had  enabled  him 
to  erect  some  kind  of  barrier,  swept  over  him  now  with 
the  whole  force  of  its  bitter  flood.  He  was  the  man  so 
cursed  with  physical  insignificance  that  no  woman 
could  love  him  for  himself.  He  had  been  wounded  by 
the  fact  even  when  he  had  been  half  indifferent.  He 
had  noticed  often  enough  that  the  proud  beauties,  who 
had  let  him  see  that  they  were  willing  to  bear  his  name 
and  wear  his  coronet,  shrank  from  his  personal  contact. 

286 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

But  this  was  the  crowning  instance  of  all.  Paula  did 
love  him — in  a  way.  That  is,  she  honored  and  es- 
teemed him.  She  trusted  him  with  the  secrets  which, 
he  believed,  she  would  never  confide  to  any  one  else  on 
earth.  She  was  ready  to  marry  him,  not  out  of  am- 
bition, nor  from  any  worldly  motive  whatever.  And 
yet,  even  she,  as  she  came  to  him,  held  out  despairing 
hands  to  a  Roger  Winship — a  pauper — a  nobody — a 
man  who  could  give  her  no  proud  place  in  the  world, 
nor,  indeed,  anything  but  himself. 

In  spite  of  his  native  simplicity,  Wiltshire  could  not 
help  feeling  this  last  fact  to  add  gall  to  his  wormwood. 
It  emphasized  his  condition  of  personal  inferiority. 
No  one  could  have  greater  advantages  of  position, 
wealth,  and  character;  and  yet,  because  he  was  short 
and  ugly  and  dull-eyed,  he  could  neither  command 
love  nor  win  it.  The  utmost  he  could  hope  for  would 
be  the  sort  of  tempered  affection  which  Paula  gave — 
the  affection  of  one  who  could  look  below  the  surface 
and  honor  him  for  what  was  hidden  there. 

Then  as  the  first  bitterness  of  his  reflections  passed 
away,  there  came  the  thought,  Why  not  be  content  with 
what  he  could  get  ?  Since  life  offered  him  only  half  a 
loaf,  was  it  not  better  to  take  it  than  to  go  hungry  ? 
It  was  out  of  the  question  for  Paula  to  marry  Roger  Win- 
ship,  in  any  circumstances  in  which  she  could  be  placed. 
Then  why  not  make  the  best  of  the  situation  by  marry- 
ing her  himself?  The  conditions  would  not  be  ideal  for 
any  one  concerned,  but  he  would  take  care  that  they 
involved  no  actual  misery.  Of  whatever  suffering  there 

287 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

might  be  to  bear,  he  would  accept  the  lion's  share  as  his 
own.  That  would  be  better — anything  would  be  bet- 
ter— than  to  give  her  up. 

It  was  cold  comfort,  but  he  had  no  other.  Such  as  it 
was,  it  gave  him  the  courage  to  dress,  and  go  with  Lady 
Alice  to  dine  with  Paula  and  her  father.  It  supported 
him  through  the  ordeal  of  the  evening,  and  helped  him 
to  conceal  his  pain,  as  he  watched  Paula's  jaded  efforts 
to  infuse  into  her  regard  for  him  something  which  was 
not  there. 

It  was  when  he  was  driving  back  to  the  hotel  with  his 
sister  that  the  current  of  his  thoughts  changed  again. 

"Well,  how  did  she  seem  to  you?"  he  asked,  with 
evident  anxiety. 

Lady  Alice  did  not  reply. 

"Did  she  strike  you  as  being — altered,  since  you  saw 
her  last?" 

Lady  Alice  looked  out  of  the  carriage  window,  and 
still  kept  silence. 

"Why  don't  you  answer  ?"  he  persisted. 

"Because  I'm  trying  to  think  of  what  to  say." 

"You  mean,  of  what  will  give  me  the  least  pain." 

"Yes,  Ludovic." 

"I  don't  think  you  need  mind  about  that — now.  I 
appreciate  your  hesitation,  but  it's  more  or  less  needless. 
You  know  things  that  I  don't,  and  yet  I  do  know  more 
than  you  may  suppose." 

"That's  rather  enigmatical." 

"No,  it  isn't.  It  means  only  that  I've  learned  so 
much  that  you  needn't  be  afraid  to  tell  me  everything." 

288 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"What  makes  you  think  that  I  have  anything  to  tell  ?" 

"Roger  Winship  spent  two  nights  with  you  at  Eden- 
bridge—" 

"Well?" 

"I  don't  imagine  that  you  discussed  pictures  all  the 
time." 

"We  didn't." 

"No;  he  took  you  into  his  confidence,  and  told  you 
about  himself — and — and — Paula." 

Lady  Alice  seemed  lost  in  the  contemplation  of  the 
lights  and  carriages  as  they  crossed  the  Place  de 
1'Etoile. 

"Aren't  you  going  to  speak  ?"  Wiltshire  went  on. 

"What's  the  good  of  speaking,  Ludovic  ?  If  Roger 
Winship  said  anything  to  me,  it's  best  to  bury  it  in 
silence.  You  and  Paula  are  to  be  married  next  week, 
and  so — " 

"The  good  of  speaking  lies  in  the  fact  that  I  need  to 
know.  Circumstances  that  touch  me  most  closely  are 
familiar  to  you,  to  Winship,  to  Trafford,  to  Paula — in 
short,  to  every  one  but  myself.  There's  no  one  to 
whom  I  can  turn  for  the  information  so  naturally  as  to 
you." 

"  But,  Ludovic,"  she  cried,  in  tones  of  astonishment, 
"I  should  think  you'd  see  it." 

"See  what?" 

Lady  Alice  had  to  brace  herself  before  she  replied. 
It  was  no  easy  thing  to  deal  at  her  brother  the  blow 
which  must  inflict  on  him  a  lifelong  pain.  She  had  to 
remind  herself  again  that  he  was  the  head  of  the  house 

280 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

of  Holroyd,  and  must,  at  all  costs,  be  true  to  the  his- 
tory and  traditions  of  his  race.  Paula  Trafford  might 
be  charming  in  herself,  but  no  Holroyd  could  look  upon 
the  marriage  as  other  than  a  family  disaster.  "The 
daughter  of  a  notorious,  low-born  Yankee  freebooter," 
their  uncle,  Lord  George,  had  called  her,  when  the  en- 
gagement was  announced  to  him;  and  much  as  Lady 
Alice  liked  Paula  for  her  own  sake,  she  could  not  deny 
that  the  designation  was  just.  It  was  a  case  in  which 
Ludovic  had  to  be  saved  from  himself,  but,  even  so, 
Lady  Alice  argued,  she  would  have  had  the  weakness 
to  spare  him  if  Paula  had  only  loved  him. 

"See  what?"  she  exclaimed,  echoing  her  brother's 
words.  "See  that  the  girl  is  dying  on  her  feet,  be- 
cause— " 

"Because,"  he  broke  in,  "she's  going  to  marry  me." 

"Not  quite  that,  Ludovic.  But  because  she  isn't 
going  to  marry  Roger  Winship." 

"You  don't  know,"  he  cried,  desperately.  "You've 
only  his  word  for  it." 

"I  haven't  only  his  word,  I've  hers.  I  know  what 
happened — and  what's  happening." 

"What  do  you  mean — what's  happening?" 

"I've  told  you.  She's  fading  out  of  life.  You  must 
all  be  blind  not  to  see  it." 

"And — what  happened?" 

"You  make  me  say  it,  Ludovic,  mind  you.  I  would 
have  kept  it  from  you  if  I  could.  Last  spring,  about 
the  time  you  came  back  from  the  Cape,  Paula  became 
engaged  to  Roger  Winship.  The  father  consented,  and 

290 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

they  might  have  been  married,  only  that  Roger 
wouldn't  accept,  nor  let  her  accept,  any  of  the  Trafford 
money.  Then  it  was  all  broken  off,  naturally  enough. 
There!  Now  you  know  all  there  is  to  know.  You'll 
hate  me  as  long  as  you  live  for  telling  you,  but,  you  see, 
you've  made  me." 

"You've  done  quite  rightly,"  he  murmured,  from  the 
depths  of  his  corner  of  the  carriage.  "  It  would  have 
been  better  if  I  had  known  it  before." 

As  they  rolled  on  the  rest  of  their  way  in  silence,  Lady 
Alice  reflected  sadly  on  the  amount  of  heroism  it  some- 
times takes  to  be  loyal  to  one's  membership  in  a  great, 
historic  family. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

T"^  ARLY  in  the  next  forenoon  Wiltshire  was  ushered 
I—/  into  Traffbrd's  office.  He  entered  with  an  apology 
for  the  untimely  hour,  but  Traffbrd  stopped  him  with 
the  assertion  that,  had  he  not  come,  he  himself  would 
have  gone  forth  to  seek  the  Duke  at  his  hotel. 

"The  fact  is,  Wiltshire,  that  I'm  worried  about  her. 
This  morning  she's  going  around  the  house  like  a  ghost. 
It's  no  use  blinding  ourselves  to  the  fact  that  she's  very 
ill." 

Trafford  leaned  heavily  on  his  desk,  and  fingered  the 
paper-weights  nervously. 

"What  do  you  suppose  is  the  matter  with  her  ?"  Wilt- 
shire asked,  with  some  slight  hesitation. 

"I've  had  Robin  to  see  her.     I  didn't  tell  you  that." 

"Well,  what  does  he  say  ?" 

"  Oh,  he  made  up  some  cock-and-bull  story,  as  doctors 
always  do  when  they're  afraid  to  confess  their  ignorance. 
Said  he  thought  she  was  suffering  from  some  secret  grief. 
I  told  him  that  wasn't  possible." 

"Are  you  sure  it  isn't,  Trafford  ?" 

"How  could  it  be?" 

"I  think  I  could  tell  you." 

"You?" 

292 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

Trafford  raised  his  head  with  sudden  attention. 

"Yes,  I.  Doesn't  it  strike  you  that,  between  us,  you 
and  I  are — killing  her  ?" 

Traffbrd  stared  at  Wiltshire  a  long  half-minute  before 
answering. 

"How?"  he  asked,  laconically. 

"  By  urging  her  into  a  marriage  in  which  she  has  no 
heart." 

"Oh,  but  you  must  be  mistaken,  Wiltshire.  I  know 
she's  fond  of  you — " 

"Yes,  as  she  would  have  been  fond  of  an  elder 
brother,  if  she  had  one.  It's  because  she's  fond  of  me 
in  that  way  that  she  hasn't  the  heart  to  hurt  me  by 
refusing — " 

He  paused,  half  hoping  to  be  contradicted  again. 
But  when  TrafFord  spoke  his  tone  implied  little  in- 
clination to  dispute  the  question. 

"Do  you  think  so?"  was  all  he  said. 

"Aren't  we  obliged  to  think  so?  Haven't  we  the 
proof  before  us  ?" 

"Where?" 

"In  herself.  No  woman  who  was  going  joyfully  to 
her  wedding-day  would  look  as  she  does.  Mind  you, 
I  don't  say  that  what  she's  doing  she's  doing  unwil- 
lingly. On  the  contrary,  she's  making  a  willing 
sacrifice — the  sacrifice  '  of  all  her  own  happiness  for 
the  sake  of  pleasing  you  and  me.  We're  forcing 
her—" 

"No,  no;  not  that,  Wiltshire.  I've  never  put  the 
slightest  constraint  upon  her.  She's  always  been  as 

293 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

free  as  the  wind.  When  it  comes  to  sacrifice,  I'm 
willing  to  anticipate  hers  by  mine — in  everything." 

"Not  more  so  than  I,  Trafford,"  the  Duke  said, 
quietly.  "And  yet  I  repeat  what  I  said:  we're  forcing 
her  by  the  very  fact  of  letting  her  see  how  much  it  means 
to  us.  We  don't  realize  that  she's  just  the  nature  to 
break  her  own  heart  rather  than  wound  yours  or  mine. 
The  question  for  us  to  decide  is  whether  or  not  we're 
going  to  let  her." 

"Of  course  we  can't  let  her — if  you're  right." 

Trafford  spoke  with  difficulty,  finishing  his  sentence 
with  a  sort  of  gulp.  He  bent  his  head  again,  and  once 
more  began  pushing  the  paper-weights  about. 

"And  you  know  I  am  right,"  Wiltshire  persisted. 

Again  Trafford  hesitated  before  answering. 

"Then  what  do  you  propose  to  do  ?"  he  asked  at  last, 
with  a  certain  huskiness. 

"  I've  thought  that  over,  and  I  see  that  here  our  united 
action  ends.  If  her  happiness  is  to  be  secured — and  I 
suppose  that  is  the  dearest  wish  of  both  of  us — then  I 
have  one  task  and  you  have  another.  I  have  the  right 
to  speak  of  mine,  but  I  can't  speak  of  yours,  unless  you 
give  me  leave." 

"Say  what  you  like.  This  is  no  time  for  too  much 
punctiliousness.  Whatever  is  necessary  I  shall  have  to 
do.  I've  long  begun  to  recognize  that  I  can't  be 
stronger  than  she  is,  not  any  more  than  the  chain  can 
be  stronger  than  its  weakest  link.  Now,  tell  me  what 
you  mean." 

"It's  soon  said,"  Wiltshire  went  on.  "I  can  free  her 
294 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

from  the  man  she  doesn't  love;  but  it's  for  you  to  let  her 
marry  the  man  she  does." 

Trafford  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"There's  a  man — she  does — love?" 

"You  ought  to  know  it,"  Wiltshire  answered,  quietly. 
"A  girl  like  Paula  hasn't  forgotten  in  January  the  man 
she  promised  to  marry  in  June.  I  don't  reproach  you, 
Trafford— " 

"Oh,  reproach  me  if  you  like,"  Traffbrd  groaned,  im- 
patiently, as  he  strode  up  and  down  the  room. 

"  I  will  say,  however,  that  if  you  had  only  told  me 
what  I  ought  to  have  known,  none  of  us  would  have 
been  in  the  position  in  which  we  find  ourselves  to-day." 

"  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor,  Wiltshire,  I  thought 
it  was  all  over.  Paula  did  promise  to  marry  the  man, 
but  since  the  affair  ended  she  seemed  never  to  think 
of  him  again." 

"And  I  can  tell  you  that  she  thinks  of  nothing  but 
him.  If  I  were  in  your  place — " 

"You'd  let  her  marry  him.  Yes,  I  know,"  Trafford 
broke  in,  impatiently,  "but  you'll  be  surprised,  perhaps, 
when  I  tell  you  I'd  consented  to  the  match,  only  the 
man  refused  my  money.  But  what's  the  use  of  dis- 
cussing it.  The  whole  thing  is  out  of  the  question — 
unless — unless  her  life  depended  on  it." 

"Are  you  sure  it  doesn't?" 

"Look  here,  Wiltshire,"  Trafford  cried,  wheeling 
round.  "What  are  you  trying  to  say?  Speak  right 
out,  for  Heaven's  sake!" 

"I  mean  that,  for  your  sake  and  mine,  Paula  has  un- 
295 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

dertaken  a  task  beyond  her  strength.  In  the  effort  to 
carry  it  out  she's  being  physically  and  mentally  and 
spiritually  exhausted.  The  question  in  her  mind  is 
a  more  complicated  one  than  that  of  giving  up  the  man 
she  loves  to  marry  the  one  she  doesn't  love.  That's 
an  experience  many  girls  have  had  to  face,  and  they've 
lived  through  it.  Paula  could  do  it  as  well  as  they. 
But  in  her  case  she  has  other  troubles — " 

"Other  troubles?" 

"And  I  think  you  ought  to  know  it,  Trafford." 

"But,  good  God!  what  other  troubles  can  she 
have  ?" 

"Your  own.  She  isn't  ignorant  of  the  campaign 
they're  carrying  on  against  you — over  there." 

"Well,  what  of  it?" 

"  I've  no  more  to  say  on  the  point.  I  mention  it  only 
to  explain  why  the  accumulation  of  her  experiences 
during  the  past  few  months  has  been  such  a  drain  on 
her  vitality." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  she  attaches  importance  to 
the  rot  they've  been  writing  about  me  in  New  York  ?" 

"I  think  I  can  go  as  far  as  that." 

"Importance — in  what  sense  ?" 

The  low  tone  of  Trafford's  voice,  the  stillness  of  his 
attitude,  and  the  intensity  of  his  deep  eyes  betrayed  the 
fear  with  which  he  awaited  Wiltshire's  reply. 

"That's  a  question  I've  no  right  to  answer.  Any 
discussion  of  it  should  be  between  you  and  her." 

"That  sounds  as  if  you  were  afraid  of  breaking  bad 
news.  Well,  I  won't  press  you." 

296 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

For  a  few  minutes  Trafford  resumed  his  walk  up 
and  down  the  room,  his  hands  clasped  behind 
his  back  and  his  head  bent.  When  he  stopped  at 
last  in  front  of  Wiltshire,  he  astonished  him  by  say- 
ing: 

"Let's  go  and  talk  it  out  with  Paula." 

Wiltshire  objected,  on  the  ground  that  he  preferred  to 
have  his  own  interview  with  her  in  private. 

"No,  no,"  Trafford  urged.  "I  must  be  there.  I 
must  know  what  you  say  to  each  other.  I  must  know, 
above  all,  what  she  says.  The  question  touches  me  too 
closely  to  have  it  decided  in  my  absence.  Come,  Wilt- 
shire," he  insisted,  taking  the  Duke  by  the  arm  and 
almost  dragging  him  from  his  chair,  "come  along,  and 
we'll  reach  an  understanding  together." 

Reluctant  as  he  was,  Wiltshire  suffered  himself  to 
be  led  away  towards  Paula's  boudoir.  As  they  ap- 
proached the  half-open  doorway  they  heard  women's 
voices  within.  Wiltshire  held  back,  but  Trafford 
pushed  the  door  open  and  entered.  Two  women  were 
on  their  knees,  with  pins  in  their  hands  and  between 
their  teeth.  There  was  a  third  woman  farther  off, 
looking  on  with  critical  attention.  Paula  stood  in  the 
midst,  tail,  pale,  grave,  crowned  with  orange-blossom, 
veiled  in  lace,  and  shimmering  in  the  white  and  silver 
of  her  wedding-dress. 

She  gave  a  little  cry  as  her  father  entered. 

"Don't  be  alarmed,"  he  said,  with  a  forced  laugh. 
"It's  no  one  to  be  afraid  of.  Come  here,  Duke,  and 
you'll  see  something." 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"No,  no!    Please!"  Paula  implored. 

But  Trafford  insisted  on  Wiltshire's  entering.  Since 
things  had  gone  as  far  as  this,  he  was  not  without  a 
lingering  hope  that  it  might  be  too  late  for  turning 
back. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

AS  they  were  actually  in  the  room,  there  was  noth- 
1\  ing  for  Paula  to  do  but  receive  them  with  the  best 
grace  she  could  command.  She  came  forward  to  meet 
the  Duke  with  hand  out-stretched,  but  she  held  herself 
rigidly,  as  though  on  guard  against  any  warmer  greeting. 
The  attitude  did  not  escape  him,  and  its  significance 
confirmed  him  in  the  feeling  that  he  was  right  in  what 
he  proposed  to  do. 

While  the  three  women  withdrew  at  a  nod  from 
Trafford,  Paula  stood  before  Wiltshire  trying  to  cover 
up  her  embarrassment  with  smiling  cordiality. 

"It  had  to  be  done,  you  know,"  she  said,  spreading 
her  hands  apart  in  a  gesture  of  apology.  "  Even  wed- 
ding-dresses have  to  fit." 

"If  you  have  to  wear  them,"  Wiltshire  added,  trying 
to  smile  in  response. 

"And  as  I'm  going  to  do  so — "  Paula  began. 

"We've  come  in  to  talk  about  that,"  Wiltshire  said, 
bluntly. 

"Talk  about — what?"  She  looked  wonderingly,  as 
she  spoke,  from  the  Duke  to  her  father. 

"Wiltshire  thinks  you'd  rather  not  marry  him," 
Traffbrd  declared,  with  intentional  directness  of  attack. 

299 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

'*  Oh,  how  can  he  ?  You  must  both  know  that  I'm 
doing  it — willingly." 

"It's  precisely  because  I  do  know  that  that  I'm  won- 
dering whether  I  should  let  you,"  Wiltshire  said,  gently. 

"  But  I  thought  you — wanted  to." 

"It  isn't  a  question  of  what  I  want,  Paula.  It's  the 
far  bigger  question  of  what's  right.  And  I've  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  it  isn't  right  for  me  to  let  you 
throw  away  your  life  for  mine." 

"Is  it  because  you  saw  me  at  Mr.  Winship's  yester- 
day that  you  bring  this  up  now  ?  Papa,  dear,"  she 
added,  turning  to  Trafford,  "  I  went  to  see  Mr.  Winship 
yesterday.  I  felt  that  I  had  a  right  to  do  it.  I  wanted 
to  bid  him  good-bye.  Is  it,"  she  continued,  looking 
again  at  Wiltshire — "  is  it  because  of  that  that  you  want 
to — to  release  me  ?" 

"  I  know  why  you  went  there.  As  you  say,  it  was  to 
bid  him  good-bye.  But  if  you  hadn't  loved  him  you 
wouldn't  have  wanted  to  do  it." 

There  was  no  reproach  in  Wiltshire's  tone.  He  tried 
to  keep  out  of  it  everything  but  a  mere  statement  of  the 
fact. 

"I  do  love  him,"  Paula  said,  after  a  minute's  hesi- 
tation. "I  needn't  deny  it.  A  lot  of  people  know  it. 
Your  sister  knows  it,  and  papa,  and — " 

"I  swear  I  didn't,  Paula,"  Trafford  cried.  "I  thought 
you  had  given  the  man  up." 

"So  I  have,  papa.  But  don't  you  remember  that  I 
told  you  I  should  always  love  him — even  if  I  married 
some  one  else." 

300 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"You  see,  then — "  Wiltshire  began. 

"But  that  doesn't  keep  me  from  loving  you,"  she 
went  on,  quickly,  "just  as  much  as  I've  always  loved 
you.  Only  it  isn't  the  same  thing.  It  isn't  even  the 
same  sort  of  thing.  If  you  think  I've  changed  towards 
you,  Duke,  or  that  I  don't  want  to  keep  my  word,  you're 
quite  wrong." 

"  But  I  don't  think  so,  Paula.  I  know  you're  ready 
to  marry  me,  and  I  know  you'd  do  it  from  the  highest 
motives  that  can  rule  in  human  conduct,  but  I  couldn't 
have  the  heart  of  a  man  and  allow  you  to  do  it." 

"Let's  sit  down,"  Traffbrd  suggested,  with  some- 
thing like  a  groan. 

When  they  had  taken  seats,  Wiltshire  defined  the 
situation  between  them.  He  took  the  responsibility  for 
it  entirely  upon  himself.  He  had  practically  laid  a  trap 
for  her.  He  had  placed  her  in  a  position  in  which  it 
had  been  almost  impossible  for  her  to  refuse  him.  He 
had  known  that  at  the  time.  He  had  been  quite  aware 
that  unless  she  had  other  reasons  for  doing  so  she  could 
not  marry  him  for  love.  He  would  say  in  his  own 
defence  that  he  hoped  that  the  love  which  was  lacking 
now  she  might  learn  to  give  him  as  their  lives  went  on 
together.  It  was  a  hope  founded  on  the  assumption 
that  if  she  did  not  love  him  much,  at  least  she  loved 
no  one  else  more.  Now  that  he  knew  to  the  contrary, 
he  must  beg  her  not  to  sacrifice  herself  in  an  effort  that 
could  only  fail.  She  listened  with  downcast  eyes.  Her 
face  was  pale  and  drawn,  and  though  she  maintained 
her  self-control,  her  emotion  betrayed  itself  in  the 

301 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

nervousness  with  which  she  twirled  round  and  round 
the  one  ring  she  wore — her  engagement-ring.  She  was 
unconscious  of  the  action,  but  Wiltshire  noted  how 
loosely  the  ring  clung  to  the  thin  white  finger. 

"I  don't  think  you  do  me  justice,  Duke,"  she  said, 
when  he  had  finished  speaking.  She  raised  her  eyes 
and  looked  at  him  with  apparent  calmness.  "You 
seem  to  think  I  have  taken  this  step  without  knowing 
what  I  was  doing,  or  counting  the  cost.  But  I  did  all 
that  beforehand.  If  I  hadn't  believed  that  I  could  be 
a  good  wife  to  you,  I  shouldn't  have  undertaken  to  try. 
That  I  loved  some  one  else  differently  was  something  I 
never  intended  that  you  should  know.  It  wouldn't 
have  been  necessary.  I  don't  suppose  that  any  two 
married  people  know  everything  about  each  other — or 
that  they  need  to  know.  You'd  have  been  happy  with 
me—" 

"Ah,  but  would  you  have  been  happy  with  me, 
Paula  ?" 

"A  woman's  happiness,  Duke,  is  very  easily  secured. 
A  large  part  of  it — the  very  largest  part  of  it — is  in  the 
happiness  of  those  she  cares  for.  If  you  and  papa  were 
pleased,  that  in  itself  would  mean  a  great  deal  to  me. 
I  don't  say  that  it  would  be  enough  to  make  me  put 
aside  all  positive  desires  of  my  own,  if  there  were  no 
other  reason.  But  there  is  another  reason — " 

"What  ?" 

"Papa  knows.  I  needn't  explain  it.  It's  enough  to 
say  that  it  exists.  I  couldn't  marry  Mr.  Winship, 
however  much  I  cared  for  him.  And  since  that  is  so, 

302 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

why  shouldn't  I  take  what's  left  of  my  life  to  bring  some 
comfort  into  yours  ?" 

Wiltshire  sprang  up  and  crossed  the  room  towards 
her. 

"No,  no,  Paula.  It  can't  be.  You  wouldn't  be 
bringing  comfort  into  my  life  when  I  knew  you  were 
desolating  your  own.  It  isn't  as  if  everything  were 
surely  over  for  the  love  you  own  to.  If  it  were,  then, 
perhaps — who  knows  ? — I  might  let  you  come  in  to  the 
poor  shelter  I  could  offer  you.  But  everything  isn't 
over — " 

"Oh,  Duke,  don't  say  that,"  she  cried,  in  a  sharp 
tone  of  pleading. 

"I  do  say  it.  I  say  it  and  repeat  it.  Reasons  that 
exist  to-day  may  not  exist  to-morrow.  What  should  I 
feel  if  the  time  ever  came  when  you  might  be  free  to 
marry  him,  if  you  had  not  been  tied  to  me  ?" 

She  started  with  a  little  gasp,  raising  her  hand  as  if 
to  brush  the  thought  away  from  her.  It  was  the  hand 
on  which  her  engagement-ring  hung  so  loosely.  Wilt- 
shire caught  it,  holding  it  firmly  in  his  own  grasp. 

"I'm  going  to  take  this  off,  Paula.  It  should  never 
have  gone  on." 

She  looked  at  him  piteously,  big  tears  beginning  to 
roll  down  her  cheeks.  Trafford  sprang  from  his  chair, 
with  an  inarticulate  sound  of  impatience.  Wiltshire 
drew  the  ring  so  slowly  from  the  finger  that  he  seemed 
to  be  counting  the  seconds  by  which  his  own  life  ebbed 
away. 

In  the  long  minute  of  silence  a  discreet  tap  on  the 
3°3 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

door  sounded  startlingly  loud.  To  Trafford's  quick 
"Come  in,"  his  secretary  entered,  apologetically  offer- 
ing a  card. 

"The  gentleman  said  his  errand  was  urgent,"  the 
secretary  explained,  "otherwise  I  shouldn't  have  vent- 
ured— " 

"You're  quite  right,  Smithson.  Ask  Durand  to  show 
the  gentleman  in  here." 

"But  who  is  it,  papa  ?"  Paula  cried,  rising,  "I  can't 
see  any  one." 

"You'd  better  see  him"  Trafford  said,  gruffly. 

He  handed  the  card  to  Wiltshire,  who,  having  read  it, 
passed  it  on  to  Paula. 

"You  see,  I  was  right,"  he  said,  softly.  "Everything 
isn't  over  yet." 

"  But,  papa,"  Paula  protested,  with  an  air  of  distress, 
"  I  can't  see  Mr.  Winship  with  this — this  wedding-dress 
on." 

"Then  take  it  off." 

"Yes,  take  it  off,  Paula,"  Wiltshire  said,  with  a  sad 
smile.  "As  long  as  I  live  I  shall  remember  with  joy 
that  you  were  willing  to  wear  it.  Now  I  am  going  to 
say  good-bye.  You  mustn't  be  sorry  for  anything 
that's  occurred,  because,  even  as  things  are,  I'm  a 
great  deal  happier  than  if — than  if  I  didn't  love 
you." 

"Oh,  Duke—"  she  began,  brokenly. 

"Hush,"  he  whispered.  "Don't  try  to  say  anything. 
Winship  will  be  here  in  a  minute,  and  you  must  go  and 
take  that  off.  But  you  can  lay  it  away  somewhere — 

304 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

can't  you  ? — and  keep  it  in  memory  of  the  sacrifice—- 
from which  I  saved  you." 

Again  Paula  tried  to  speak,  but  he  turned  quickly 
from  her.  With  a  rapid  pressure  of  Trafford's  hand, 
he  left  by  one  door,  while  Paula  went  out  by  another. 
Trafford  was  thus  left  alone  to  wait  for  WJnship. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

V/'EARS  of  use  had  developed  into  an  instinct  Traf- 
I  ford's  faculty  for  rapidly  seizing  the  salient  points 
of  a  situation.  He  never  lost  sight  of  the  end  to  be 
attained,  or  suffered  side  issues  to  divert  his  attention. 
His  victories  had  been  won  less  by  the  success  of  his 
plans  than  by  the  execution  of  new  moves  when  his 
plans  were  thwarted.  He  wasted  no  time  in  forcing 
the  manoeuvre  that  could  not  be  carried  out,  or  in 
lamenting  the  one  that  had  failed.  Whether  the  means 
were  in  men  or  in  money,  he  prized  them  only  in  so  far 
as  they  reached  the  aim  on  which  his  mind  was  fixed. 
His  promptness  of  judgment,  quickness  of  action,  and 
concentration  of  purpose  excluded  sentiment  for  those 
who  had  ceased  to  fight  by  his  side.  Even  if  he  had  the 
will  to  think  of  them,  he  had  not  the  time. 

When  Wiltshire  closed  the  door  behind  him,  he  dis- 
appeared from  Trafford's  plan  of  action  as  completely 
as  if  he  had  never  been  in  it.  It  was  one  more  instance 
of  the  tool  that  had  been  bent  in  the  hand,  and  could 
only  be  cast  aside.  He  had  been  singled  out  to  insure 
Paula  Trafford's  happiness,  but  circumstances  had 
rendered  him  unsuited  to  the  task.  Very  well;  there 
was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  turn  to  some  one  who 

306 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

would  be  equal  to  the  undertaking,  even  though  it  were 
a  Roger  Winship.  Trafford  was  subconsciously  aware 
that  a  day  would  come  when  he  would  have  leisure  to 
look  back  with  regret  to  the  hopes  he  had  built  upon  the 
Duke,  but  events  pressed  too  closely  to  allow  of  his 
doing  it  now. 

During  the  few  minutes  that  passed  between  the 
Duke's  departure  and  Winship's  appearance,  Traf- 
ford reviewed,  in  his  rapid  way,  the  points  of  the  situa- 
tion, one  by  one,  and  prepared  himself  for  any  step  he 
might  be  called  upon  to  take. 

The  meeting  between  the  two  men  was  cold  and  for- 
mal. Each  kept  himself  on  his  guard.  It  was  impos- 
sible for  Winship's  trained  observation  not  to  see  that 
Trafford  was  a  broken  man,  and  equally  so  for  Traf- 
ford, with  his  habit  of  quick  scrutiny,  not  to  perceive 
in  Winship  a  certain  development  in  command  and  im- 
portance, since  their  meeting  of  six  months  ago. 

"I  must  thank  you  for  receiving  me,"  Winship  began, 
when  they  had  taken  seats.  "I  shouldn't  have  vent- 
ured to  disturb  you,  if  I  had  not  something  of  im- 
portance to  say." 

"I'm  very  willing  to  see  you,  Mr.  Winship,"  Traf- 
ford said,  with  a  faint  suggestion  of  friendliness. 

"My  business  may  be  briefly  stated,"  Winship  con- 
tinued, "but  my  motives  may  require  a  word  of  ex- 
planation." 

"I'm  entirely  at  your  service  for  anything." 

"Six  months  ago,"  Winship  pursued,  with  some 
evident  difficulty,  "you  offered  my  sister  and  myself  a 

307 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

large  sum  of  money.  That  is  to  say,  while  no  defi- 
nite sum  was  named  for  me,  you  contemplated,  I 
think,  something  of  the  sort." 

"You're  quite  right." 

"We  refused  the  money  then.  We  meant  that  re- 
fusal to  be  final;  but  since  last  night  we've  reconsidered 
the  matter.  If  you  are  still  in  the  same  frame  of 
mind—" 

"I  am." 

"We  should  be  willing  to  accept  it." 

"I  shall  have  the  matter  arranged  at  once.  I  believe 
I  said  five  hundred  thousand  for  Miss  Winship.  If 
you'll  permit  me,  I'll  double  the  sum  for  you;  or,  if  you 
prefer  it,  I  will  double  that  again." 

"The  amount  is  of  no  consequence.  Neither  of  us 
could  ever  use  the  money  for  ourselves.  As  far  as  we 
are  concerned,  its  transference  to  our  names  would  be  a 
mere  formality.  I  know  we  lay  ourselves  open  to  the 
charge  of  compromising  with  the  man  who  ruined  our 
father  and  mother — " 

"Couldn't  we  discuss  the  subject,  Mr.  Winship, 
without  bringing  that  point  up  again  ?" 

The  curious  gentleness  of  Traffbrd's  tone  struck  Win- 
ship  strangely. 

"I'll  try,"  he  said,  briefly. 

"I'll  tell  you  why,"  Traffbrd  explained.  "I  know 
you're  doing  this  for  my  daughter;  and  I've  reached  a 
point  where  I  can't  bear  that  there  should  be  bitterness 
of  speech  in  anything  where  she's  concerned." 

"That's  right,"  Winship  said,  with  more  emotion 
308 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

of  tone  than  he  had  displayed  hitherto.  "I  ought  to 
have  remembered  it — especially  as  my  errand  here  this 
morning  is  to  say  that  my  sister  and  I  want  to  bury  the 
sword  at  your  daughter's  feet." 

"In  what  way,  Mr.  Winship  ?  Will  you  be  good 
enough  to  tell  me  exactly  what  you  and  Miss  Winship 
mean  ?" 

"Our  impulses  are  different.  My  sister's  is  a  very 
simple  one.  She  has  always  treated  Miss  Trafford 
harshly — unjustly.  But  she  has  done  it  with  a  sort  of 
kicking  against  the  pricks.  Now  that  she  realizes  her 
goodness,  her  elevation  of  character,  she  is  ready  to  do 
anything,  however  hard,  to  make  amends.  It's  not  an 
unusual  manifestation  of  remorse.  My  own  motives 
are  somewhat  more  complicated  —  just  as  the  whole 
question  is  a  complicated  one.  I  understand  that  Miss 
Traffbrd  is  to  be  married  in  a  few  days  to  the  Duke 
of  Wiltshire.  Well,  I  rebelled  against  that  when  she 
told  me  yesterday — for  you  may  not  know  that  I  saw 
her  yesterday.  But  the  night  brings  counsel,  and  I've 
come  to  see  that,  in  all  the  circumstances,  it's  perhaps 
the  best  thing  for  every  one.  Wiltshire  is  a  good  man, 
and,  if  he  can't  make  her  happy,  he  will  at  least  sur- 
round her  with  love  and  kindness.  I'm  the  only  one 
who  could  have  made  her  happy — " 

"And  you  wouldn't  do  it,"  Traffbrd  broke  in.  "You 
threw  away  your  chance." 

"  I  don't  think  I  really  had  it.  The  Cid  and  Chimene 
were  not  separated  by  so  impassable  a  barrier  as  she 
and  I.  At  all  events,  if  I've  made  a  mistake  I'm  ready 

309 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

to  pay  the  penalty.  She's  not  happy,  and  she's  not 
well.  Any  one  can  see  that.  I  think  it  might  help  her 
towards  being  both  if  she  knew  I  had  taken  the  money. 
She  feels  strongly  on  the  point — more  strongly,  I  fancy, 
than  any  of  us  is  aware  of." 

"That  is,  she  thinks — mind  you,  I'm  speaking  quite 
calmly,  Mr.  Winship,  I'm  merely  trying  to  state  the  case 
as  it  is  —  she  thinks  I've  done  you  and  your  family  a 
wrong,  and  she  would  be  happier  if  she  thought  I  had 
righted  it." 

"I  think  that's  her  conviction." 

"And  you're  willing  to  make  it  seem  as  if  I  had  right- 
ed it,  in  order  that  she  may  be  more  at  peace." 

"Quite  so.  Miss  TrafFord  need  never  know  any- 
thing more  than  that  I  have  taken  the  money.  Before 
she  is  married  I  shall  have  sailed  for  New  York,  where 
I  mean  to  live.  It's  hardly  likely  that  our  paths  will 
cross  again;  and  so,  in  the  course  of  time — " 

"May  I  ask  if  you  are  going  to  America  also  on 
my  daughter's  account?" 

"Only  partially.  The  time  has  come  for  me  to  return 
there,  in  any  case.  I'm  only  hastening  my  departure." 

For  a  few  minutes  there  was  silence.  Winship, 
having  stated  his  case,  had  little  more  to  add.  TrafFord 
looked  musingly  at  the  floor,  and  even  when  he  spoke 
he  did  not  lift  his  eyes. 

"Look  here, Winship, "he  said  at  last,  "why  shouldn't 
you  wait  a  few  days  and  take  my  daughter  with  you  ?" 

There  was  a  second  or  two  of  dead  stillness  before 
Winship  replied,  "I  don't  understand." 
310 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"It's  easy  enough,  however,"  Trafford  pursued,  still 
without  looking  up.  "  Paula  is  not  going  to  marry  the 
Duke  of  Wiltshire." 

"Oh!"    Winship  started, 

" He  came  here  just  now  to  release  her.  He'd  learned 
that  Paula  didn't  love  him — that,  in  fact,  she  loved  you. 
And  since  she  does — and  you  love  her — and  you've  met 
me  half-way  by  offering  to  take  the  money  —  why 
shouldn't  we — ?" 

"I  didn't  expect  this,"  Winship  gasped. 

"No,  of  course  you  didn't.  Naturally  it  would  put 
you  back  in  the  same  position  as  before — before  you 
dealt  that  blow  at  me  in  June.  Now,  don't  speak, 
Winship.  Let  me  give  you  the  thing  from  my  point  of 
view."  Trafford  looked  up  and  spoke  with  more 
animation.  "You've  grown  up  in  the  idea  of  working 
off  on  me  a  bit  of  family  revenge.  Chance  put  you 
in  the  way  of  doing  it.  You  would  have  carried  off 
my  daughter,  and  left  me  childless.  You  would  have 
done  it  in  such  a  way  that  the  very  manner  of  her  going 
with  you  would  have  been  the  severest  condemnation 
of  my  life  and  me.  You  didn't  quite  succeed,  and  yet 
you  haven't  wholly  failed.  My  daughter  stands  by  me 
before  the  world;  she  only  condemns  me  in  secret,  she 
only  shrinks  from  me  by  ways  which  she  thinks  I  don't 
see  or  understand.  As  a  matter  of  appearance  she's 
still  my  child,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  I've  lost  her.  You 
see,  then,  that  you've  done  the  most  important  part  of 
your  work — you've  effected  between  her  and  me  that 
sort  of  moral  separation  that  nothing  can  ever  heal. 

3" 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Whatever  happens  now,  whatever  turn  events  may 
take,  she'll  never  be  to  me  again — what  she  used  to  be. 
You  see,  you've  done  as  much  as  that.  It's  part  of 
what  you  wanted,  isn't  it  ?" 

Winship  hesitated  a  minute  before  replying.  "Yes," 
he  said  at  last. 

"But  there's  one  thing  you  haven't  realized,"  Traf- 
ford  went  on,  in  the  same  calm  voice.  "You've  made 
me  suffer,  but  I'm  not  the  only  one.  I'm  not  sure, 
even,  that  I'm  the  one  who  suffers  most.  You  couldn't 
have  guessed  beforehand  what  it  would  mean  to  a 
nature  like  my  little  girl's  to  lose  her  faith  in  me.  But 
you  must  know  it  now,  if  you  saw  her  yesterday.  She 
didn't  look  like  that  when  you  saw  her  first,  did  she, 
Winship  ?  That's  "your  work.  As  the  Duke  said  this 
morning,  she's  not  dying  merely  because  she  gave  up 
one  man  to  marry  another;  she's  dying  because  she  finds 
herself  in  a  world  so  tainted  that  she  can't  breathe  in  it. 
You  see,  then,  Winship:  you  wanted  to  kill  me,  and 
you've  gone  far  towards  killing  her.  There's  just  one 
thing  that  will  bring  her  back  to  life.  Do  you  want  me 
to  tell  you  what  it  is  ?" 

Winship  was  gazing  at  Trafford  with  haggard  eyes, 
but  he  did  not  speak. 

"Our  reconciliation,"  Trafford  said,  with  the  same 
unemphasized  intensity. 

Winship  rose  slowly  to  his  feet. 

"I'm  only  a  man,"  he  said,  hoarsely.  "I've  no 
power  to  work  a  miracle." 

"Then,  for  God's  sake,  couldn't  you  pretend  to  do 
312 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

it  ?"  Trafford  cried,  springing  up  in  his  turn.  "You're 
ready  to  make  sacrifices  for  her  sake,  you're  ready  to 
take  the  money,  you're  ready  to  go  away,  you're  ready 
to  tear  out  your  own  heart  and  hers  too.  Is  it  so  much 
easier  to  do  all  that  than  merely  to  take  the  hand  out- 
stretched to  you  ?  True,  it's  my  hand,  the  hand,  you 
will  say,  that  crushed  your  father  and  struck  your 
mother  down;  but  even  so,  wouldn't  you  rather  touch 
it — just  touch  it — than  grind  the  life  out  of  a  sweet 
and  blameless  child  ?  I  know  your  revenge  is  dear  to 
you — but  you've  got  it.  You've  got  it  in  the  very  fact 
that  I,  Paul  Traffbrd,  come  pleading  to  you,  as  I  never 
expected  to  plead  to  any  man.  I've  used  men  as  the 
mere  bricks  with  which  to  build  my  castle,  and  yet  I'm 
brought  to  the  necessity  of  begging  you  for  a  recogni- 
tion. Can't  you  afford  to  laugh,  man  ?  Can't  you 
afford  to  triumph  over  me  ?  You  couldn't  gloat  at  the 
sight  half  so  much  if  you  saw  me  in  my  coffin  as  you 
can  now  in  watching  me  at  your  feet.  God  Almighty 
has  put  me  at  your  mercy,  in  menacing  my  poor  child's 
life;  but  you'd  be  a  monster,  and  not  a  man,  to  keep 
me  there." 

He  paused,  waiting  for  a  reply;  but  for  a  minute  or 
two  Winship  said  nothing.  He  stood  erect,  his  hands 
behind  his  back,  his  lips  tightly  set,  and  his  deep  eyes 
gazing  off  into  the  distance  above  Trafford's  head. 
Trafford  himself  watched  with  an  expression  of  rather 
pitiful  beseeching. 

"I  find  my  position  a  very  hard  one,"  Winship  said, 
slowly.  He  spoke  in  a  low  voice,  but  with  what  seemed 

313 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

to  Trafford  curious  distinctness.  "I  have  to  put  it  to 
you  crudely — very  crudely — in  order  that  you  may  see 
how  hard  it  is.  I  thought  I  was  ready  to  make  any 
sacrifice  for  Miss  Trafford,  merely  to  give  her  peace  of 
mind.  Now  I  have  to  hesitate  to  save  her  life.  But 
I've  never  contemplated  the  possibility  of  even  a  nomi- 
nal reconciliation  with  you.  If  it  were  only  a  question 
of  private  enmity,  I  shouldn't  shrink  from  it.  But  it's 
more  than  that.  It's  a  great  point  of  honor.  If  I  do 
as  you  suggest,  I  shall  be  allying  myself,  openly  and 
before  the  world,  with  a  man  whose  life,  work,  and 
character  I  look  upon  as  a  national  evil.  I  shall  be  en- 
tering into  a  system  of  organized  depredation  which  is 
already  bringing  our  country  into  disrepute,  and  may 
lead  it  to  disaster.  I  shall  be  abandoning  my  own 
principles  of  simplicity,  honesty,  and  self-respect,  to 
take  up — or  to  seem  to  take  up — those  of  plunder, 
cruelty,  and  greed.  I  must  ask  you  to  forgive  me  for 
speaking  in  this  way.  I  shouldn't  do  it  if  it  were  not 
for  the  sake  of  making  my  position  clear.  You  must 
see  yourself  that  it  was  one  thing  for  me  to  try  to  take 
your  daughter  out  of  the  life  you  stand  for,  but  it's  quite 
another  to  be  willing  to  go  into  it  with  her.  But  that's 
what  it  comes  to.  However  nominal  my  act  might  be, 
that's  what  I  should  be  doing.  I  repeat  that  I  can 
forget  all  the  reasons  I've  had  for  personal  hostility. 
But  I  can't  forget  that  you're  the  chief  of  that  group  of 
men  who,  as  I  believe  in  my  heart,  are  the  corrupters — " 
"  I  won't  trouble  you  for  further  explanations  of  that 
sort,"  Trafford  interrupted,  without  show  of  anger. 

3H 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"I've  been  treated  to  such  a  lot  of  eloquence  on  the 
subject,  at  one  time  or  another,  that  I  know  in  advance 
exactly  what  you  want  to  say.  I  shall  only  ask  you  to 
remember  that  if  I've  never  said  anything  in  my  own 
defence,  and  if  I  say  nothing  now,  it  doesn't  follow  that 
I've  no  defence  at  all.  At  the  same  time  I  may  admit 
that  I  see  your  point,  and  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  it  isn't 
flattering  to  me,  I'm  not  without  a  certain  respect  for 
your  position.  Don't  give  me  an  answer  now.  Think 
over  it.  Then,  if  you  can't  do  it,  why  we  shall  just  have 
to  bear  the  consequences,  that's  all.  But  remember 
this,  Winship:  that  if  what  you  call  your  honor  out- 
weighs what  you  call  your  love,  and  my  little  girl  dies, 
it  won't  be  because  you  wouldn't  marry  her.  She's 
no  such  weakling  as  to  break  her  heart  for  that.  It 
will  be,  as  I've  said  already,  because  the  world  will  have 
become  unfit  for  her  to  live  in.  Now  go  and  think  it 
all  over.  If  we  talk  about  it  any  longer  we  may  say 
the  wrong  thing.  Remember  that  you're  on  the  point 
of  making  a  big  decision,  and  take  your  time.  To-day 
is  Tuesday.  Suppose  you  were  to  come  to  see  me  again 
on  Thursday  afternoon  ?" 

After  further  discussion  it  was  settled  in  this  way, 
and  Winship  rose  to  go.  He  was  at  the  door  when  he 
paused  and  turned. 

"It  often  happens,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  voice  he  had 
not  used  hitherto,  "that  men  who  are  furthest  apart  in 
matters  of  principle  find  some  place  for  mutual  sym- 
pathy when  they  come  into  personal  contact.  I've 
been  twice  put  in  situations  where  I've  had  to  speak 

315 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

out  my  mind  with  something  more  than  plainness;  and 
yet  the  superb  patience  with  which  you've  borne  what 
I've  had  to  say  has  made  me  feel  as  if  I  were  shooting 
into  the  air.  I  should  like  to  add,  however,  that  it 
won't  be  necessary  for  me  to  begin  in  that  strain 
again." 

"My  dear  fellow,"  Traffbrd  responded,  warmly, 
"nobody  appreciates  a  good  fighter  like  an  old  soldier. 
It  would  never  occur  to  me  to  resent  anything  you  say; 
I'm  too  much  occupied  in  trying  to  make  you  think 
differently.  That's  my  form  of  winning  a  victory. 
Who  knows  but  what  we  may  both  live  to  talk  over  all 
these  things,  as  I've  heard  two  old  soldiers  of  the 
North  and  South,  each  giving  his  account  of  the  same 
battle  from  his  own  point  of  view  ?" 

Winship  made  no  reply  to  this,  but  he  allowed  Traf- 
ford  to  take  his  hand  and  hold  it  for  a  second,  with  a 
pressure  that  was  not  unkindly. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

IN  spite  of  what  he  knew  of  Marah's  changed  atti- 
tude towards  Paula,  it  was  a  surprise  to  W'iship 
to  find  that  she  counselled  him  at  once  to  fall  in  with 
Trafford's  plans. 

"  It's  a  case  that  admits  of  no  hesitation,"  she  said, 
as  they  talked  the  subject  over  in  the  long,  red  studio 
that  night.  "  If  anything  were  to  happen  to  her — " 

"Why  should  you  suggest  that?" 

"I  must  suggest  it,  Roger.  And  if  anything  did  hap- 
pen to  her,  it  would  be  little  comfort  to  you  then  to  re- 
member that  you  hadn't  done  violence  to  your  scruples. 
I  don't  deny  that  you're  in  a  difficult  position.  When 
a  man's  right  course  is  to  throw  in  his  fortunes  with  what 
he  believes  to  be  wrong,  he  offers  a  curious  problem  to 
the  casuist.  And  yet  it  seems  to  me  there's  no  doubt 
as  to  what  you  ought  to  do.  We're  human  beings  first 
and  members  of  a  social  order  afterwards.  If  Paula  is 
as  ill  as  you  say,  there  can  be  no  thought  for  any  one 
but  her." 

They  sat  at  the  table  from  which  the  servant  had 
cleared  away  their  simple  evening  meal.  Marah  had 
brought  her  paints  and  brushes  to  the  light,  and  Win- 
ship  had  opened  mechanically  a  portfolio  of  drawings, 

317 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

at  which  he  did  not  look.  He  sat  smoking  pensively, 
allowing  Marah  to  pursue  her  thoughts  without  in- 
terruption. 

"At  the  same  time,"  she  continued,  "you'd  have  to 
count  the  cost.  We  should  both  have  to  do  it.  It's 
in  the  very  nature  of  the  circumstances  that,  whatever 
compromise  must  be  made,  I  should  have  to  share  it." 

"  That's  hard  on  you,"  Winship  said,  absently.  "You'd 
be  paying  the  price  without  securing  any  of  the  reward." 

"My  reward  doesn't  matter,"  she  snapped.  "It's 
too  late  now  to  think  of  happiness  for  me.  If  I  can  get 
the  reflection  of  yours  it  will  be  enough.  And  you 
would  have  it.  It's  no  use  talking  as  if  you  were  mak- 
ing a  great  sacrifice  to  get  nothing  in  return." 

"I  don't  think  I  ever  did.  If  I  have  scruples,  they 
come  entirely  from  the  fear  of  buying  my  happiness  at  a 
price  I  ought  not  to  pay." 

"Of  course;  but  that's  not  the  question  any  longer. 
It  often  happens  in  life  that  it's  your  duty  to  spend  on 
some  one  else  the  money  which  you  wouldn't  be  justi- 
fied in  wasting  on  yourself.  That's  the  position  here. 
If  your  only  thought  was  of  what  you  were  to  get  you 
wouldn't  do  it.  You'd  be  the  man  who  was  gaining 
the  whole  world  and  losing  his  own  soul.  I'm  sorry  to 
say  that  that  was  the  light  at  which  I  looked  at  it  in 
June.  I  didn't  see  that  there  was  another  side  to  it.  I 
thought  of  Paula  only  as  a  Traffbrd;  and  I  didn't  realize 
that  good  things  could  come  even  out  of  Nazareth. 
Now  I  feel  as  if  life  couldn't  be  long  enough  to  make 
her  the  necessary  reparation." 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

She  stopped,  with  a  little  quiver  in  her  voice.  Bend- 
ing her  head,  she  made  sharp,  tiny  strokes  on  the  un- 
finished miniature  before  her. 

"  But  we  must  be  clear  in  advance,"  she  pursued,  after 
a  few  minutes  of  silence,  "that  the  price  you'd  have  to 
pay  would  be  a  heavy  one.  You  mustn't  be  blind  to 
that  fact  now,  and  indignant  when  the  world  calls  you 
to  the  reckoning  afterwards.  In  the  first  place,  you'll 
be  looked  upon  as  a  successful  fortune-hunter.  Oh, 
you  needn't  frown,  because  no  one,  outside  theTraffbrds 
and  ourselves,  will  have  any  other  opinion  about  you. 
They'll  ignore  the  fact  that  Paula  is  a  girl  whom  any 
man  might  be  eager  to  marry  for  herself.  Even  our 
own  best  friends  won't  give  you  the  benefit  of  the  doubt 
in  this  case." 

"I  shall  be  able  to  live  without  it,"  he  interrupted, 
dryly. 

"Of  course  you  will.  But  you  won't  be  able  to  live 
without  many  a  twinge  of  pain  arising  from  the  fact. 
And  there'll  be  even  worse,  Roger.  In  our  little  group 
of  intimates,  where  you've  been  the  chief,  where  your 
ideas  have  converted  so  many  to  sane  and  simple  views 
of  life,  where  you've  inspired  them  to  go  home,  and 
fight,  against  greed  and  corruption,  and  to  work  for 
whatever  is  pure  and  lovely  in  American  life,  from  the 
aspect  of  the  streets  to  the  attitude  of  the  mind — there 
you'll  be  looked  upon  as  worse  than  a  lost  leader,  as 
more  despicable  than  a  turncoat.  After  all,  a  man  has 
a  right  to  change  his  mind,  and  to  adopt  new  principles 
if  he  wants  to;  but  they  won't  allow  you  that  privilege. 

3*9 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

You'll  be  considered  simply  as  a  traitor — as  the  man 
who  denied  his  faith,  and  went  over  to  the  enemy,  for 
the  sake  of  a  big  prize.  There,  again,  you'll  be  able  to 
live  without  their  good  opinion;  the  very  magnitude  of 
your  fortunes  will  enable  you  to  do  that;  but  you  must 
face  the  trial  of  becoming  the  object  of  their  scorn,  and 
of  being  made  to  feel  it.  The  very  fact  that  you'll  be 
so  far  removed  from  your  old  friends  in  circumstance 
will  make  you  want  to  cling  to  them  all  the  more  in 
heart;  and  they'll  reject  you." 

Winship  still  puffed  pensively  at  his  pipe,  looking  far 
away  into  the  darkness  of  the  long,  dimly  lighted 
room. 

"And  yet,"  she  continued,  speaking  calmly,  "you 
wouldn't  be  the  first  man  to  live  under  the  unjust  con- 
demnation of  the  world.  It  isn't  so  hard,  if  you  once 
steel  yourself  to  do  it.  It  will  be  easier  in  your  case  than 
in  most,  for  the  simple  reason  that,  in  your  position, 
you'll  be  surrounded  by  a  host  of  new  friends  and 
flatterers  who'll  stand  well  between  you  and  those  you've 
left  behind.  Besides,  there  will  be  a  lot  of  people  by 
whom  you  will  be  treated  with  sincere  respect,  as  the 
man  who  got  the  best  of  the  great  Paul  Trafford.  You 
will  be  the  conqueror's  conqueror,  and  that  fact  alone 
will  give  you  a  high  place  among  those  whose  approval 
you  despise.  But  having  won  that,  you'll  have  to  live 
up  to  it.  Having  accepted  the  position,  you'll  have  to 
show  yourself  equal  to  its  tasks.  All  your  own  simple 
tastes  and  habits  of  life  must  be  abandoned.  You'll 
have  to  give  up  your  art — " 

320 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"No,"  he  thundered,  bringing  his  clinched  hand  down 
on  the  table. 

"Yes,  Roger.  You  need  only  reflect  a  minute  to  see 
how  incongruous  your  art  will  have  become  in  your  new 
surroundings.  An  artist  is  essentially  a  worker,  a 
toiler,  and,  relatively,  a  poor  man.  You,  on  the  con- 
trary, will  have  become  one  of  the  few  very  rich  men  in 
the  whole  world.  You  can  see  at  once  how  absurd  it 
would  be  to  go  on  painting  portraits  at  five  or  ten  or  even 
twenty  thousand  dollars  apiece.  In  the  first  place, 
you'd  be  taking  the  bread  out  of  other  men's  mouths; 
and  in  the  second,  your  new  duties  wouldn't  allow  you 
the  time.  The  first  thought  of  a  man  as  rich  as  you  will 
be  must  be  his  money — the  care  of  it,  the  spending  of  it, 
or  even  the  giving  of  it  away.  Art  will  mean  no  more 
to  you  then  than  a  crutch  would  mean  to  an  eagle. 
You've  got  to  face  that  fact.  I'm  only  putting  it  before 
you  now  so  that  you  won't  rebel  against  it  when  it's  too 
late.  It  will  be  easier  for  you  to  give  it  up  beforehand, 
of  your  own  free  choice,  than  to  have  the  renunciation 
forced  upon  you,  when  you  don't  want  to  make  it. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  you'll  have  Paula.  There'll  be 
that  compensation  at  least.  If  there's  to  be  a  revolu- 
tion in  your  life,  it  will  be  the  kind  of  revolution  that 
comes  to  a  man  when  he's  torn  away  from  the  interests 
of  this  world,  to  go  and  live  in  heaven." 

Marah  said  much  more,  but  Winship  followed  with 
only  a  wavering  attention.  He  was  realizing  with 
greater  fulness  what  his  acceptance  ofTrafford's  prop- 
osition would  mean.  The  reversal  of  his  aims  became 

321 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

more  complete  as  he  saw  it  in  the  light  of  her  direct, 
feminine  observations.  Hitherto  he  had  thought  chiefly 
of  the  Change  to  be  produced  within  himself — of  the 
giving  up  of  his  pursuit  of  vengeance,  and  of  the  aban- 
donment of  those  altruistic  social  principles  which  he 
had  urged  upon  others  as  being  of  the  American  re- 
public's very  soul.  He  had  not  seen  himself  as  he 
would  figure  in  the  eyes  of  those  who  formed  his  world 
— the  men  and  women  who  had  looked  up  to  him,  who 
had  encouraged  him,  and  whose  mouth-to-mouth  ap- 
plause had  been  a  large  element  in  his  present  incipient 
celebrity.  They  were  the  generous,  eager,  enthusiastic 
young  souls  whom  Paris  had  drawn  from  every  corner 
of  the  Union,  to  send  them  back  again  with  ideas 
heightened,  broadened,  and  clarified  by  touch  with  the 
accumulated  wisdom  of  mankind.  For  ten  years  Win- 
ship  had  gone  in  and  out  among  them,  sharing  their 
ambitions,  their  follies,  and  their  tasks,  gradually  sober- 
ing to  one  steady  vision  of  the  good  they  would  all  do 
when  they  "went  home."  His  heart  had  gone  out  to 
theirs,  and  their  hearts  to  him,  in  that  sort  of  trust 
which  contains  the  element  of  a  life-long  bond,  defying 
chance  and  change.  It  would  have  been  hard  enough 
to  turn  his  back  on  them  in  any  case;  it  was  harder  still 
to  know  that  after  he  had  done  it  they  would  hoot  him 
down  with  pitiless,  jeering  anathemas.  They  were  still 
young  and  ardent  enough  to  show  no  mercy  on  the  man 
who  could  sell  his  ideals  for  a  fortune. 

When  Marah  went  to  bed  he  paced  up  and  down  the 
studio  thinking  of  them.     He  came  back  from  them  to 

322 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

himself  again,  and  passed  from  himself  to  the  thought 
of  the  beloved  art  he  must  abandon  with  the  rest.  He 
had  not  accepted  Marah's  opinion  when  she  first  ex- 
pressed it,  but,  little  by  little,  as  he  reflected,  he  saw  that 
she  was  right.  The  hugely  wealthy  portrait-painter 
would  be  futile  and  anomalous.  Art  was  in  some  sense 
the  daughter  of  necessity,  and  he  would  become  in- 
capable of  work  when  he  had  entered  into  the  Nirvana 
of  Paul  Trafford's  money. 

He  went  about  the  room  taking  up  and  laying  down 
the  familiar  objects  connected  with  his  painting.  It 
seemed  to  him  already  as  if  he  came  back  to  them  like 
a  disembodied  spirit,  unable  to  handle  them  any  more. 
He  drew  the  cloth  away  from  the  newly  finished  por- 
trait on  the  easel,  and  stood  gazing  at  it,  as  if  bidding  it 
a  mute  farewell.  When  he  lit  his  candle  and  went  to 
bed  he  knew  that  his  mind  was  made  up.  He  knew,  in 
fact,  that  it  had  been  made  up  from  the  beginning. 
Whatever  might  be  his  pain  at  forsaking  his  old  life,  he 
could  have  no  real  hesitation  when  Paula  had  need  of 
him  to  make  hers  anew. 

On  Thursday  afternoon  he  went  to  give  Trafford  his 
reply. 

For  father  and  daughter  the  intervening  time  had 
passed  in  a  kind  of  lull.  From  the  fact  that  Traffbrd 
said  nothing  of  the  purpose  of  Winship's  previous  visit, 
Paula  gathered  that  something  was  in  suspense.  As 
Traffbrd  watched  her,  it  seemed  to  him  that  she  was 
better  and  brighter,  as  if  her  new  freedom  had  brought 
her  relief  already.  Her  step  was  lighter  as  she  went 

323 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

about  the  house,  and  in  her  cheek  there  was  a  tinge  of 
color  like  the  first  hint  of  coming  dawn.  When  at 
luncheon  on  Thursday  he  asked  her  to  remain  at  home 
during  the  afternoon,  her  blush  betrayed  the  knowledge 
that  some  decisive  moment  was  approaching. 

Trafford  waited  in  the  small  sitting-room  that  had 
been  his  wife's,  adjoining  Paula's  boudoir. 

"It's  a  queer  world,"  he  mused,  "and  we  old  ones 
have  tumbled  into  the  midst  of  a  strangely  constructed 
generation.  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  can  understand  it. 
Here's  a  young  fellow  who,  I  suppose,  is  typical  of 
the  twentieth  century,  hesitating  to  marry  the  loveliest 
girl  and  the  biggest  fortune  in  the  world.  By  gad! 
it  was  different  in  my  time.  It's  true  that  in  my  time 
there  were  no  such  heaps  of  money  lying  around,  to  be 
scooped  up  with  a  wedding-ring.  I've  set  the  new  pace 
in  that.  I've  piled  up  wealth,  till  the  very  thought  of  it 
is  staggering,  and  it's  just  as  if  nobody  wanted  it." 

He  smiled  bitterly  to  himself,  as  he  made  the  reflec- 
tion, while  there  floated  through  his  mind  a  verse  of 
the  Scriptures  that  had  found  a  place  in  his  memory, 
he  knew  not  how: 

41  For  man  walketh  in  a  vain  shadow,  and  disquieteth 
himself  In  vain  ;  he  heapeth  up  riches  and  cannot  tell 
who  shall  gather  them." 

"It's  almost  as  if  those  words  were  written  for  me," 
he  mused  on.  "I've  done  the  thing,  and  what's  the 
good  of  it,  after  all  ?  I've  heaped  up  the  riches,  but 

324 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

who's  to  gather  them  ?  Paula  would  rather  be  rid  of 
the  money  than  take  it;  George  has  as  much  as  he 
knows  what  to  do  with;  I  go  begging  to  old  Roger  Win- 
ship's  son  to  take  the  stuff  off  my  hands,  and  he  hesitates 
to  do  me  the  favor.  Lord!  if  I  could  wave  a  fairy  wand 
and  conjure  it  all  back  to  where  it  came  from,  I'll  be 
blowed  if  I  wouldn't  do  it.  It's  a  curious  Nemesis  to 
overtake  a  man  like  me.  I've  had  the  most  stupen- 
dous luck  that  any  one  ever  had  on  earth ;  and  now  I 
can  only  say  that  I've  walked  in  a  vain  shadow,  and 
disquieted  myself  in  vain." 

Winship  came  at  four.  From  the  manner  of  his 
entering,  Trafford  knew  that  this  much  of  the  cause  was 
won.  He  strode  in,  looking  very  tall,  erect,  and  grave, 
and  held  out  his  hand.  Trafford  rose  and  took  it,  with 
sudden  gravity  on  his  part.  For  a  few  seconds  they 
stood,  with  hands  clasped,  staring  each  other  in  the 
eyes.  It  was  difficult  for  either  to  find  words  to  express 
the  situation. 

"You  needn't  say  anything,"  Trafford  said,  at  last, 
as  they  moved  apart.  "  I  know  you  mean  to  do  it,  and 
that  you'll  do  it  well.  It  will  be  for  me  to  show  that  I 
appreciate  your  action." 

"  It  will  only  be  necessary  for  each  of  us  to  remember 
that  whatever  we  do  we  do  for  Paula's  sake,  to  make 
what's  difficult  easy." 

"  That's  well  spoken,  Winship.  You  can  trust  me 
not  to  forget  it,  as  I  am  sure  you  won't.  Now  let  me 
call  her." 

When   she   appeared   on   the   threshold,   the   scene 
325 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

brought  back  so  painfully  her  similar  entry,  on  the 
similar  occasion  in  June,  that  Trafford  hastened  for- 
ward and  took  her  by  the  hand. 

"Come  here,  dear,"  he  whispered.  "Let  me  lead 
you  to  him.  There,  take  her,"  he  added  to  Winship; 
"and  no  man  on  earth  ever  received  so  rare  a  gift." 

"No  man  on  earth  could  value  it  more  preciously," 
Winship  returned.  Taking  her  hands  gently  in  his 
own,  he  stooped  and  kissed  them  both. 

The  whole  action  was  so  sudden  that  it  took  Paula  by 
surprise.  With  her  hands  still  in  Winship's,  she  looked 
at  her  father,  and  from  her  father  back  again  to  Win- 
ship. 

"What  does  it  mean  ?"  she  asked.  Whatever  color 
had  been  in  her  face  died  away  now. 

"It  means,  dear,"  Trafford  replied,  "that  the  two 
hearts  who  love  you  most  have  become  one  in  you." 

"Is  it  true,  Roger?" 

"It's  true,  Paula— after  all." 

With  her  hands  still  in  his,  she  looked  once  more 
towards  her  father. 

"You  wish  it,  papa  ?" 

"I  do,  dearest.  In  going  to  the  man  you  love,  you 
go  with  all  my  good-will." 

"  And  without — without  the  money  ?" 

The  question  was  unexpected.  For  a  moment  nei- 
ther of  the  men  replied.  When  Trafford  spoke  it  was 
stammeringly. 

"He's — he's — going  to  take  it,  dear." 

"Then  I  can't  let  him,"  she  said,  firmly.  She  with- 
326 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

drew  her  hands  and  fell  back  a  step  or  two.  "It's  what 
I  was  afraid  of,"  she  went  on,  speaking  in  tones  of  quiet 
decision.  "I  thought  he  had  come  to  say  so  the  other 
day.  But  I  could  never  consent  to  it." 

"  But,  darling — •"  Trafford  began  to  implore. 

"No,  papa.  I've  thought  it  all  over  in  the  last  two 
days,  and  I  see  what  he  would  be  doing  for  me.  He 
knows  how  I've  been  suffering.  And  to  save  me  he's 
willing  to  commit  a  great  apostasy." 

"But,  Paula—" 

"You  needn't  speak,  Roger.  I  know  your  heart 
better  than  you  do  yourself.  No  one  has  firmer  con- 
victions than  you;  no  one  is  more  sure  of  what  he  con- 
siders right.  And  yet,  for  my  sake,  you'd  renounce 
what  you  believe  in,  just  as,  in  a  time  of  persecution, 
some  Christian  might  renounce  his  God,  and  his  eternal 
hopes,  for  the  sake  of  a  heathen  maiden.  But  how 
can  I  accept  such  sacrifice  ?  The  Duke  of  Wiltshire 
wouldn't  let  me  do  far  less  than  that  for  him.  Papa, 
dear,"  she  pursued,  "you  mustn't  be  offended  at  any- 
thing I  say;  but  it  must  be  clear  to  us  all  that  Roger 
hasn't  the  same  ideas  about  life  that — that  we  have. 
I  don't  say  that  his  are  necessarily  right  and  ours  wrong; 
they're  only  different.  He  couldn't  possibly  give  up  his 
and  accept  ours  without  doing  violence  to  his  nature. 
He  may  pretend  to  be  a  convert,  but  he  isn't;  and  we 
know  that  nothing  is  so  hollow,  or  so  hard  to  keep  up, 
as  a  conversion  in  which  there's  no  faith." 

"But  I  should  put  faith  into  it,  Paula." 

"Don't  say  that,   Roger.     It  pains  me.     I  like  to 

327 


THE  GIANTS   STRENGTH 

know  that  you're  living  for  your  own  aims,  and  for 
nothing  else.  For  you  to  abandon  them  would  seem  to 
me  a  good  deal  more  than  a  desertion.  I  could  never 
lend  myself  to  such  a  plan,  or  be  satisfied  to  see  you 
carry  it  out.  No,  Roger.  Your  way  isn't  ours,  nor 
ours  yours." 

"You  didn't  think  so  six  months  ago,"  Trafford 
broke  in,  despairingly. 

"I've  learned  a  great  deal  in  six  months,  papa.  I 
understand  now  things  that  I  knew  nothing  about  then." 

"What  things?"  he  demanded,  with  the  quickness 
of  one  who  feels  touched  where  he  is  sensitive. 

"Very  serious  things.  I've  thought  about  them,  and 
read  about  them,  and  prayed  about  them,  until  I've 
obtained  some  small  degree  of  insight.  I  know  that 
some  are  higher  and  some  are  lower,  and  that  Roger's 
are  the  higher.  How  could  I  ask  him  to  come  down  ? 
How  could  I  bear  to  be  the  very  instrument  of  such  a 
renunciation  ?  You  mustn't  feel  hurt,  papa,  at  my 
saying  this.  Your  life  is  my  life,  and  I'm  going  to  lead 
it;  but  I  couldn't  let  Roger  come  and  share  it.  He'd 
be  wretched  with  us,  and,  when  we  saw  it,  we'd  be 
wretched  with  him.  Better  let  each  live  for  his  own — 
he  in  his  way,  and  you  and  I  together." 

"You  and  I  together — in  the  lower  way,"  Trafford 
said,  sadly. 

"  I  don't  say  so,  papa.  I've  been  thinking  that  over, 
too,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  different  generations  have 
different  uses.  You  belong  to  the  great  age  of  material 
effort.  That's  the  age  we've  been  living  in,  and  there 

328 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

must  be  good  in  it.  It  hasn't  only  made  the  country 
rich  and  powerful,  but  it  has  developed  the  great  store- 
house God  has  kept  laid  up  in  it,  until  mankind  had 
need  to  come  and  use  it.  That's  been  part  of  your  work, 
papa,  and  it  would  be  wicked  to  say  that  it  hasn't  its 
noble  aspects.  But  mayn't  it  be  that,  now  that  so  much 
of  it  is  done,  we're  passing  on  to  other  phases — phases  in 
which  we  sha'n't  have  to  think  so  much  of  the  material, 
and  so  may  be  free  to  lift  up  our  hearts  to  something 
else  ?  Aren't  there  signs  of  it  everywhere — among  all 
classes  of  our  people  ?  Don't  think  me  foolish,"  she 
continued,  spreading  her  hands  apart  in  a  gesture  of 
appeal — "  don't  fancy  that  I  suppose  for  a  moment 
that  I  can  teach  you.  But  I've  had  to  go  over  it  all  in 
the  last  few  months,  and  it  does  seem  to  me  as  if  I  could 
feel  the  stir  of  a  great  spiritual  awakening.  As  I  look 
over  the  new  books,  as  I  turn  the  pages  of  the  maga- 
zines, as  I  listen  to  sermons  or  read  reports  of  them,  as  I 
see  in  the  papers  the  new  kinds  of  effort  that  are  being 
put  forth,  I  can't  help  the  conviction  that  our  whole 
country  is  groaning  and  travailing  in  pain  together  to 
burst  its  bonds  and  let  its  soul  go  free." 

"How?" 

"By  getting  beyond  the  idea  that  the  greatest  thing 
in  the  world  is  to  make  money  and  live  in  luxury,"  she 
replied,  promptly.  "We've  only  had  to  do  it  to  see 
how  unsatisfying  it  is,  and  we're  feeling  after  something 
better.  There  are  people  going  before  us  to  show  us 
the  way,  and  the  impulse  is  coming  to  the  rest  of  us  to 
press  in  behind  and  follow  on." 

329 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"She  looks  like  a  prophetess,"  Traffbrd  whispered  to 
Winship. 

"I  often  think,"  she  continued,  heedless  of  the  in- 
terruption, "that  when  God  kept  our  continent  hidden 
for  so  many  generations  it  was  in  order  that  we  might 
have  virgin  ground  on  which  to  begin  all  over  again, 
with  a  civilization  that  could  be  truer  to  the  principles 
of  Christ.  I  believe  that  in  our  heart  of  hearts  we  know 
it.  I  believe  that  there's  not  an  American  anywhere 
who  doesn't  feel,  in  some  obscure  depth  of  his  being, 
that  we've  missed  our  calling  hitherto.  We've  been  sent 
to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  poor  and  heal  the  broken- 
hearted, and  we  haven't  done  it.  But  I'm  sure  there's 
a  growing  sense  that  we  ought  to,  and  that  we  must. 
There  are  men  and  women  starting  up  in  all  directions 
to  tell  us  how.  Roger's  one  of  them,  and  I  couldn't 
call  him  back.  He  has  his  word  of  the  message  to 
deliver,  and  I  couldn't  ask  him  to  be  silent.  I  can  see 
now  that  what  happened  last  June  was  for  the  best — • 
the  very  best.  Roger,  dear,"  she  continued,  turning 
towards  Winship,  "  I  thank  you  for  what  you're  willing 
to  do  for  me.  You  know  I  love  you — that  I  shall  al- 
ways love  you.  I  haven't  made  a  secret  of  it,  and  I 
never  shall.  But  I  couldn't — I  couldn't — " 

She  faltered,  her  hands  crossed  on  her  breast,  and 
her  lips  quivering. 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other  helplessly. 

"You  see  that  you  and  I  have  to  live  for  such  different 
things  that  no  marriage  —  papa,  darling,  don't  turn 
away,"  she  implored,  as  Trafford  took  two  or  three 

33° 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

strides  towards  a  window.  "You  mustn't  be  angry 
with  me.  You  mustn't  think  I  don't  want  to  stay  with 
you.  I  do.  I  do.  With  love  like  Roger's  and  mine 
we  can  be  happy  even  if  we're  apart — can't  we,  Roger  ? 
— even  if  we  never  see  each  other  any  more.  Our 
being  married  is  of  no  consequence,  papa,"  she  went  on, 
following  after  him.  "It's  one  of  the  beauties  of  such 
a  great,  great  love  that  it  doesn't  want  anything  but  to 
do  the  best.  Papa,  papa,"  she  begged,  clinging  to  his 
shoulder,  "turn  round,  look  at  me,  kiss  me.  Don't 
think  for  a  moment  that  I  can  want  anything  in  this 
world  half  so  much  as  to  see  you  happy  in  the  love  of 
your  little  girl.  Roger  doesn't  want  it,  either — do  you, 
Roger ;  Look  at  me,  papa,  and  kiss  me,  and  make  me 
feel  that  you  want  to  keep  me  at  your  side." 

For  a  long  half-minute  Trafford  remained  motion- 
less. When  he  turned,  it  was  so  suddenly  that  he  shook 
her  from  him.  His  face  was  crimson,  but  he  astonished 
them  both  by  bursting  into  a  loud  and  pealing  laugh. 
Paula  stepped  back  from  him,  half  afraid,  half  wonder- 
ing. Traffbrd  smote  his  hands  together,  and  laughed 
again,  louder  and  longer  than  before. 

"Gad!"  he  cried,  as  if  stifling  in  his  mirth.  "Gad! 
How  easily  the  little  thing  is  taken  in!  Didn't  you  see, 
dear  ?  Didn't  you  understand  ?  Why,  it's  all  a  trick 
— it's  all  a  bit  of  play-acting.  Ton  my  soul,"  he  con- 
tinued, coming  nearer  to  her,  "I  didn't  think  you  could 
be  imposed  upon  like  that.  Roger  isn't  going  to  take 
the  money,"  he  roared,  seizing  her  in  his  arms  with  a 
passion  that  almost  hurt  her.  "He  isn't  going  to  take 

331 


THE  GIANT'S  STRENGTH 

the  money,  and  I  don't  mean  to  offer  it.  You're  to  go  to 
him  without  it.  It's  all  settled  and  understood.  You're 
to  live  anywhere  and  anyhow  that  suits  you,  and  the 
money  can  go  to  blazes.  There's  only  one  thing  that 
matters  on  God  s  earth — that  my  little  girl  should  be 
happy,  and  that  she  should  owe  some  of  her  happiness 
to  her  old  papa.  Here,  Roger — !" 

"No,  no,  papa,"  she  cried,  clinging  to  him.  "Don't 
let  me  go.  I'm  afraid.  I'm  afraid.  Don't  let  me 

go-" 

"Here,  Roger,"  Trafford  shouted  again.  "Take 
her." 

He  flung  her  from  him  with  a  wild  force  that  would 
have  been  brutal  had  not  Winship  caught  her  in  his 
arms.  He  laughed  again  as  he  groped,  like  a  blind 
man,  feeling  his  way  from  the  room;  but,  being  unused 
to  comedy,  he  betrayed  himself  by  stopping  too  abrupt- 
ly, when  he  had  banged  the  door  behind  him. 

Within  the  room  the  silence  was  strange  and  sudden. 
Paula  hung  panting  and  helpless  in  Winship's  arms, 
while  Winship  rained  kisses  on  her  lips  and  eyes  and 
hair,  in  the  unloosed  passion  of  his  long-pent-up  love. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

"HTHAT'S  done,"  Traffbrd  panted  to  himself,  when 
1  he  was  in  the  corridor.  "It's  done  and  settled 
for  ever  and  ever.  By  God!  I  did  it  well.  Very  few 
men  would  have  pulled  it  off  like  that.  I  don't  believe 
there's  another  father  in  the  world  who  would  sacrifice 
himself  as  I've  done.  It's  all  over.  I've  lost  her.  I'm 
beaten.  I  had  to  let  her  go.  There  are  very  few  men 
who  would  have  done  it  like  that." 

Though  he  was  sustained  by  a  sense  of  his  own 
heroism,  the  way  seemed  long  between  Paula's  room 
and  his  own  library-office.  He  stopped  at  every  few 
steps,  and  muttered  to  himself. 

"That's  it.  I've  lost  her.  Oh,  there's  no  use  trying 
to  shirk  the  fact.  She'll  go  her  way  and  I'll  go  mine. 
There's  nothing  else  for  us  to  do.  I've  lost  them  all 
now.  Let  me  see.  It  was  Harry  first,  then  Arthur, 
then  Constance,  then  Jennie,  then  poor  Julia,  and  now 
— now — she's  gone,  and  I'm  all  alone.  I've  walked  in 
a  vain  shadow,  and  disquieted  myself  in  vain.  Well, 
all  right,  all  right.  If  nobody  wants  to  gather  the  riches 
I've  heaped  up,  then,  at  least,  I  can  give  'em  back.  By 
George!  what  a  stir  it  would  make  if  I  did  itl  P^ul 
Trafford  resolving  his  immense  fortune  into  its  constitu- 

333 


.    THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

ent  elements!  Andrew  Carnegie  wouldn't  be  in  it  be- 
side me.  Well,  it  would  be  occupation  for  my  lonely 
old  age,  at  any  rate.  But  what's  the  use  of  dreaming  ? 
Money  can  no  more  be  returned  to  where  it  came  from 
than  a  rose  could  be  reduced  to  the  earth  and  water 
from  whence  it  grew." 

He  tottered  on  a  few  paces  farther,  and  stopped 
again. 

"It's  hard,  though.  It's  damned  hard.  What's  the 
world  going  to  be  to  me  now  ?  I've  got  an  income  that 
I  can't  count,  and  nothing  to  do  with  it.  I've  got  half 
a  dozen  big  houses  stuffed  with  luxury,  and  no  one  to 
live  in  them.  She'll  go  back  to  New  York,  and  stifle  in 
a  six-room  flat  at  Harlem,  while  I  shall  be  alone  in  my 
sixty  rooms  in  Fifth  Avenue.  Why  ?  Why  ?  Why  ?" 

He  smote  his  hands  together  and  groaned. 

"Why?  Why?  Why  ?"  he  repeated.  "And  yet,  I 
suppose,  I  know  why.  She  won't  put  it  into  words,  but 
she  means  it  none  the  less.  I  seem  born  to  be  mis- 
understood. Even  she  misunderstands  me.  After  all 
the  good  I've  done,  after  the  churches  I've  built  and  the 
institutions  I've  endowed,  I'm  still  looked  upon  as  a 
sort  of  monster  —  living  for  nothing  but  his  money. 
Well,  they  shall  learn  better.  I'll  teach  them.  I'll 
show  them  that  I  made  money  just  because  I  chose  to 
make  it,  and  I'll  fling  it  back  among  them,  and  laugh 
to  see  them  scramble  for  it.  It  '11  be  sport  for  me  to 
watch  them  squirming  in  the  mud,  to  pick  up  what  I 
disdain  and  chuck  away." 

He  held  himself  more  erect  at  the  thought,  and  walk- 
334 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

ed  down  the  corridor  with  firmer  tread.  He  had  reach- 
ed his  own  door,  when  he  paused  again. 

"And  yet,  I  suppose  Paula  would  think  that  wasn't 
the  right  spirit.  She'd  say  the  highwayman  doesn't 
atone  for  robbery  by  giving  the  money  to  a  church — the 
only  place  for  it  would  be  the  pockets  it  was  taken  from. 
Well,  I  agree  with  her.  It's  just  what  I'd  rather  do, 
if  it  was  possible.  But  I  don't  believe  it  is.  There  are 
some  I  could  hunt  up.  I  know  that  Brewer,  of  Albany, 
has  a  son  working  as  a  clerk  at  Wanamaker's;  and  then 
there  are  the  Rosses  and  the  Brents  and  the  Dowlings 
and  a  few  more.  Rawson,  who  hanged  himself  in 
Fitchburg,  left  a  family,  I  believe;  and  that  fellow 
Jackson,  who  stabbed  my  agent,  Pitts,  has  a  wife,  if  not 
children.  He  must  have  served  fifteen  years  of  his 
sentence  by  this  time,  and  I  might  get  him  a  pardon. 
Then  there  was  old  Marshall — but,  Lord!  I'm  not 
going  on  with  this  sort  of  catechism.  I  should  go  daft. 
They  took  their  chances,  just  as  I  did.  Whatever  I  may 
do  for  them  or  their  families  now  I  shall  do  as  an  act  of 
mercy.  Paula  herself  couldn't  make  me  think  other- 
wise." 

He  turned  the  handle  of  his  door  and  entered.  As  he 
did  so,  the  click  of  his  secretary's  type-writer  came  to  him 
from  the  adjoining  room.  At  the  very  sound,  instinct 
and  habit  resumed  their  sway,  and  a  few  minutes  later 
he  was  seated  at  his  desk  plunged  into  the  details  of 
work  as  profoundly  as  if  no  great  crisis  had  changed  the 
nature  of  his  domestic  life.  He  read  the  three  or  four 
cablegrams  that  had  come  during  the  afternoon,  and 

335 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

told  Smithson  what  to  say  in  reply.  He  ran  his  eye 
over  the  secretary's  answers  to  the  day's  correspondence, 
and  signed  his  name  where  it  was  needed.  He  dashed 
off  two  or  three  important  letters  with  his  own  hand, 
addressed  and  sealed  and  stamped  them.  He  informed 
the  Oregon  &  Ohio  Railway  that  in  their  fight  with 
the  United  Power  Company  he  would  stand  behind 
them  with  unlimited  money,  while  he  indicated  several 
important  congressmen,  whose  influence  had  already 
been  his,  for  proper  consideration.  He  ordered  George 
to  spare  nothing  to  get  control  of  the  Kansas,  Leaven- 
worth  &  Baltimore  line,  and  to  push  the  Jay-Berryman 
combine  until  it  went  under.  He  instructed  his  Hart- 
ford agents,  Messrs.  Taft  &  Reed,  to  appeal  against 
the  verdict  for  two  thousand  dollars  in  favor  of  old 
Mrs.  Breen,  and  to  carry  the  case  to  a  higher  court. 
It  put  new  nerve  into  him  to  feel  that  the  impulse  to 
fight  till  he  won  was  as  strong  in  him  as  ever.  It  an- 
noyed him  that  the  Scriptural  words  should  sweep 
across  his  mind  again: 

"For  man  walketh  in  a  vain  shadow,  and  disquieteth 
himself  in  vain  ;  he  heapeth  up  riches  and  cannot  tell 
who  shall  gather  them" 

As  he  dwelt  upon  the  words,  the  faint  upleaping  of 
courage  that  had  come  from  his  half-hour  of  work  died 
down  again.  He  leaned  his  head  wearily  on  his  hands 
and  pondered.  What  was  the  use  of  it  all  ?  Why 
should  he  fight  against  the  United  Power  Company  ? 

336 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Why  should  he  try  to  get  control  of  the  K.,  L.  &  B.  ? 
Why  should  he  hinder  poor  old  Mrs.  Breen  from  getting 
the  damages  rendered  her  for  the  husband  killed  in  his 
employ  ?  He  did  not  grudge  her  the  money.  He  had  no 
enormous  interest  in  smashing  the  Jay-Berryman  com- 
bine. As  for  the  United  Power  Company,  he  had  no 
object  but  to  drive  it  into  a  corner  where  it  would  have 
to  capitulate  to  him.  But  why  should  he  ?  Was  it 
necessary  to  fight  simply  because  he  had  the  instinct  ? 
Was  it  necessary  to  wield  a  giant's  strength  simply  be- 
cause he  had  it  ?  Was  there  no  such  word  as  enough  ? 
Was  there  no  such  quality  as  mercy  ?  Was  it  outside 
the  rules  of  business — to  spare  ? 

"Business!  Business!  Business!"  he  repeated  to 
himself.  "That's  been  my  God,  and  I've  worshipped  it 
as  if  it  were  a  misshapen  idol.  I  suppose  that  if  I'd 
served  my  Maker  half  as  much  I  shouldn't  be  here, 
alone,  to-night.  I  wonder  if  I  could  do  a  big,  new  thing 
that  wasn't  business  at  all  ?  I  wonder  if  I  could  start 
out  on  a  course  that  would  shock  the  business  world  to 
its  foundations  ?  I  believe  I  feel  myself  coming  to  it. 
I've  dreamed  of  it  hitherto.  Now,  I  think  the  minute 
has  come  for  me  to  wake  up  and  do." 

He  leaned  forward  and  touched  a  bell.  A  few 
seconds  later  the  secretary  entered  the  room. 

"Turn  on  the  light,  Smithson,  please,"  Traffbrd  said, 
with  sudden  briskness  of  tone.  "You  may  remember 
that  a  few  months  ago  I  asked  you  to  send  to  America 
for  all  the  papers  connected  with  the  cases  of  Marshall 
versus  the  Vermont  Mining  Company,  and  of  the 

337 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

Turtonville  Improvement  Company  versus  Marshall. 
I  hope  you  have  them." 

"Yes,  sir.     They're  in  my  safe.     Shall  I  get  them  ?" 

"Please." 

"You've  looked  them  over,  as  I  suggested  ?"  he  asked, 
when  Smithson  had  laid  the  documents  before  him. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Marshall  failed  for  about  three  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand,  didn't  he?" 

"  Between  that  and  four  hundred." 

"You've  made  the  inquiries  I  asked  you  to  look  up  ? 
The  daughters  are  all  living  ?" 

"They  were  all  living  in  October,  sir.  One  of  them 
was  ill,  and  not  expected  to  live  long." 

"Thanks,  Smithson.  That  will  do  for  the  moment. 
Don't  send  any  of  those  cablegrams  to-night.  I'll 
speak  about  them  again  to-morrow.  No,  you  needn't 
post  these  letters.  I'm  not  sure  yet  that  I  shall  send 
them." 

Smithson  retired,  and  Trafford  began  to  turn  over  the 
papers  before  him.  He  did  not  read  them  consecutive- 
ly. A  word  here  and  there  would  arrest  his  attention 
and  send  him  off  dreaming. 

"It's  curious,"  he  reflected.  "I  was  in  the  right 
throughout  this  case,  and  yet  it's  one  about  which  public 
opinion  has  given  me  no  quarter.  All  the  laws  of  supply 
and  demand,  of  cause  and  effect,  were  on  my  side;  but 
because  old  Marshall  shot  himself,  leaving  four  daugh- 
ters unprovided  for,  I've  been  made  to  appear  as  the 
instrument  of  the  disaster.  I  don't  feel  so  myself — not 

338 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

wholly  so,  at  any  rate;  but  Paula  would  agree  with  the 
public,  if  she  knew  about  it.  Well,  I'll  try  to  patch  it 
up  before  she  does.  The  wind  will  be  taken  out  of  that 
sail,  at  any  rate." 

He  sighed,  and  went  on  with  his  desultory  inspection 
of  the  Marshall  papers.  He  was  still  occuped  in  doing 
so  when  a  knock  came  to  the  door.  Before  he  had 
time  to  look  up  and  say  "Come  in,"  the  door  was 
pushed  open  and  Paula  entered,  followed  by  Winship. 
Trafford  remained  seated.  They  advanced  together, 
till  they  stood  before  his  desk. 

"We've  come  in  to  say  that  we  can't  do  it,  papa," 
Paula  began,  abruptly.  "I  can't  go  and  leave  you 
alone." 

"I  will  not  take  her  from  you  like  this,"  Winship 
added.  "  It  seems  to  me  a  sort  of  robbery.  It  wouldn't 
be  blessed.  If  there's  a  sacrifice  to  be  made,  it  must  be 
ours.  We're  younger  and  stronger — " 

"Stop,"  Trafford  said,  softly.     "Stop." 

Winship  ceased,  and  there  was  a  long  silence.  Traf- 
ford still  remained  seated,  gazing  absently  at  the  papers 
on  the  desk  before  him.  Winship  and  Paula  wait- 
ed in  motionless  attention.  There  was  no  sound  but 
the  click-click-click  of  the  type-writer  in  the  adjoining 
room. 

Still  without  speaking,  Trafford  rose.  Coming  to 
them,  he  passed  one  hand  through  Paula's  arm  and 
one  through  Winship's. 

"My  little  girl  is  willing  to  stay  with  me  after  all,  is 
she?" 

339 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

"I'm  not  only  willing,  papa,  but  I  want  to." 

"Then,  darling,  you  can't.  You  can't,  because  I'm 
going  on  a  long  journey." 

As  he  spoke  he  turned  them  gently  round,  and 
began  leading  them  towards  the  door. 

"A  long  journey,  papa?" 

"Yes,  dear — a  journey  that  will  take  me  all  round, 
and  round,  and  round  the  United  States.  I  mean  to 
go  to  New  York  when  you  go,  after  you've  been  married. 
Then  I  shall  have  to  leave  you." 

"  But  where  are  you  going,  papa,  dear  ?" 

"I'm  going  first  to  a  place  called  Turtonville,  Wis* 
consin — " 

"Not  to  see  the  old  Miss  Marshalls  ?"  came  from 
Paula,  like  a  long-stifled  cry. 

Trafford  started. 

"Ah!    What  do  you  know  about  them?" 

"  I  know  all  about  them." 

"  Then  I'm  going  to  see  them,"  he  hurried  on.  "  After 
that  I'm  going  to  see  more  people — then  more — then 
more.  When  it's  all  over,  I  shall  come  back  to  you. 
Now  kiss  me — kiss  me — and — go." 

"Oh,  papa,  darling,  how  good  you  are!" 

She  kissed  him,  clinging  to  him,  but  he  released  her 
arms  from  about  his  neck. 

"Now  go — both  of  you,"  he  insisted,  opening  the 
door. 

"First  let  me  say,"  Winship  began,  "that  I  beg  your 
pardon  for  anything — " 

"Oh,  you  needn't,  Winship,"  he  interrupted,  with  a 
340 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

weary  smile.  "I  know  how  you've  felt.  I  should 
have  felt  that  way  myself.  You've  been  a  good  fighter, 
and  you've  only  found  out  what  all  we  fighters  have  to 
learn  in  time — that  when  we've  struck,  the  blow  hasn't 
given  us  the  satisfaction  we  expected.  Don't  think  any 
more  about  it.  I'll  do  myself  the  justice  to  say  that 
I've  always  respected  you,  even  at  the  worst  of  times. 
Now — go — go  off  together.  I've  a  great  deal  to  do 
that  I  can  only  do — alone." 

He  forced  them  gently  from  the  room,  closing  the 
door  behind  them.  For  a  second  he  leaned  against 
it,  as  if  for  support,  till  his  habitual  energy  came 
back. 

"That  I  can  only  do — alone,"  he  repeated  to  himself. 
"By  God!  I  shall  do  it— to  the  bitter  end." 

He  strode  back  firmly  to  his  desk  and  sat  down 
again.  With  head  erect  and  lips  set,  he  was  for  an 
instant  like  the  Paul  Trafford  of  old. 

"  But  the  end  may  not  be  a  bitter  one,"  he  reflected. 
"In  the  hair-shirt  and  penitence,  Charles  V.  found  some- 
thing better  than  he  had  ever  known  upon  the  throne. 
Well,  why  shouldn't  I  ?  True,  the  hair-shirt  will  look 
queer  in  Wall  Street,  but  I'm  not  afraid  of  that.  If  it 
has  taken  a  giant's  strength  to  do  what  I've  done 
hitherto,  it  will  require  more  to  fulfil  what  lies  before 
me.  But  I  shall  have  it — I  shall  have  it — the  giant's 
strength — and  more — God  and  my  little  girl  helping 
me." 

He  rang  the  bell  and  called  for  Smithson.  The  new 
orders  took  the  secretary  so  much  by  surprise  that  he 

341 


THE  GIANTS  STRENGTH 

was  obliged  to  have  them  repeated  two  and  three  and 
four  and  five  times  before  he  mastered  them.  When 
he  did  so  he  was  the  first  member  of  the  great  American 
public  to  call  Paul  Trafford  mad.  He  was  also  the 
first  to  qualify  the  madness  as  divine. 


THE  END 


JOHN   FOX,  JR'S. 

STORIES  OF  THE  KENTUCKY  MOUNTAINS 

May  ba  bad  wtaaravar  books  an  sold.      Ask  for  Qnssot  and  Dmlap's  list 

THE  TRAIL   OF   THE    LONESOME  PINE. 
Illustrated  by  F.  C.  Yohn. 

The  "lonesome  pine"  from  which  the 
story  takes  its  name  was  a  tall  tree  that 
stood  in  solitary  splendor  on  a  mountain 
top.  The  fame  of  the  pine  lured  a  young 
engineer  through  Kentucky  to  catch  the 
trail,  and  when  he  finally  climbed  to  its 
shelter  he  found  not  only  the  pine  but  the 
foot-prints  of  a  girl.  And  the  girl  proved 
to  be  lovely,  piquant,  and  the  trail  of 
these  girlish  foot-prints  led  the  young 
engineer  a  madder  chase  than  "the  trail 
of  the  lonesome  pine." 

THE     LITTLE    SHEPHERD    OF    KINGDOM    COME 

Illustrated  by  F.  C.  Yohn. 

This  is  a  story  of  Kentucky,  in  a  settlement  known  as  "King- 
dom Come."  It  is  a  life  rude,  semi-barbarous;  but  natural 
and  honest,  from  which  often  springs  the  flower  of  civilization. 

"  Chad."  the  "little  shepherd"  did  not  know  who  he  was  nor 
whence  he  came — he  had  just  wandered  from  door  to  door  since 
early  childhood,  seeking  shelter  with  kindly  mountaineers  who 
gladly  fathered  and  mothered  this  waif  about  whom  there  was 
such  a  mystery — a  charming  waif,  by  the  way,  who  could  play 
the  banjo  better  that  anyone  else  in  the  mountains. 

A  KNIGHT   OF  THE    CUMBERLAND. 
Illustrated   by  F.  C.  Yohn. 

The  scenes  are  laid  along  the  waters  of  the  Cumberland* 
the  lair  of  moonshiner  and  feudsman.  The  knight  is  a  moon- 
shiner's son,  and  the  heroine  a  beautiful  girl  perversely  chris- 
tened "The  Blight."  Two  impetuous  young  Southerners'  fall 
under  the  spell  of  "The  Blight's  "  charms  and  she  learns  what 
a  large  part  jealousy  and  pistols  have  in  the  love  making  of  the 
mountaineers. 

Included  in  this  volume  is  "Hell  fer-Sartain"  and  other 
stories,  some  of  Mr.  Fox's  most  entertaining  Cumberland  valley 
narratives. 

Ask  for  compete  fret  Jt'tt  of  G.  &  D.  Popular  Cojyriglittd  Fiction 


GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


MYRTLE  REED'S  NOVELS 

May  be  had  wherever  books  am  sold.       Ask  for  Grcssct  &  Dun  lap's  list 


LAVENDER  AND  OLD  LACE. 

A  charming  story  of  a  quaint  "comer  of 
New  England  where  bygone  romance  finds  a 
modern  parallel.  The  story  centers  round 
the  coming  of  love  to  the  young  people  on 
the  staff  of  a  newspaper — and  it  is  one  of  the 
prettiest,  sweetest  and  quaintest  of  old  fash- 
ioned love  stories,  *  *  *  a  rare  book,  ex- 
quisite in  spirit  and  conception,  full  of 
delicate  fancy,  of  tenderness,  of  delightful 
humor  and  spontaniety. 


A  SPINNER  IN  THE  SUN. 

Miss  Myrtle  Reed  may  always  be  depended  upon  to  write  a  story 
in  which  poetry,  charm,  tenderness  and  humor  are  combined  into  a 
clever  and  entertaining  book.  Her  characters  are  delightful  and  she 
always  displays  a  quaint  humor  of  expression  and  a  quiet  feeling  of 
pathos  which  give  a  touch  of  active  realism  to  all  her  writings.  In 
"A  Spinner  in  the  Sun"  she  tells  an  old-fashioned  love  story,  of  a 
veiled  lady  who  lives  in  solitude  and  whose  features  her  neighbors 
have  never  seen.  There  is  a  mystery  at  the  heart  of  the  book  that 
throws  over  it  the  glamour  of  romance. 

THE    MASTER'S    VIOLIN, 

A  love  story  in  a  musical  atmosphere.  A  picturesque,  old  Ger- 
man virtuoso  is  the  reverent  possessor  of  a  genuine  "Cremona."  He 
consents  to  take  for  his  pupil  a  handsome  youth  who  proves  to  have 
an  aptitude  for  technique,  but  not  the  soul  of  an  artist.  The  youth 
has  led  the  happy,  careless  life  of  a  modem,  well-to-do  young  Amer- 
ican and  he  cannot,  with  his  meagre  past,  express  the  love,  the  passion 
and  the  tragedies  of  life  and  all  its  happy  phases  as  can  the  master 
who  has  lived  life  in  all  its  fulness.  But  a  girl  comes  into  his  life — a 
beautiful  bit  of  human  driftwood  that  his  aunt  had  taken  into  her 
heart  and  home,  and  through  his  passionate  love  for  her,  he  learns 
the  lessons  that  life  has  to  give — and  his  soul  awakes. 

Founded  on  a  fact  that  all  artists  realize. 

Ask  for  a  complete  fret  list  of  G.  &  D.  Popular  Copyrighted  Fiction 


GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


AMELIA  E.  BARK'S  STORIES 

DELIGHTFUL    TALES    OF   OLD    NEW   YORK 
May  bo  had  wherever  books  an  sold.      Ask  for  Grossot  and  DunUp's  list 

THE  BOW  OF  ORANGE  RIBBON.    With  Frontispiece. 

This  exquisite  little  romance  opens  in  New  York  City  in  "the  ten- 
der grace"  of  a  May  day  long  past,  when  the  old  Dutch  families 
clustered  around  Bowling  Green.  It  is  the  beginning  of  the  romance 
of  Katherine,  a  young  Dutch  girl  who  has  sent,  as  a  love  token,  to  a 
young  English  officer,  the  bow  of  orange  ribbon  which  she  has  worn 
for  years  as  a  sacred  emblem  on  the  day  of  St.  Nicholas.  After  the 
bow  of  ribbon  Katherine's  heart  soon  flies.  Unlike  her  sister,  whose 
heart  has  found  a  safe  resting  place  among  her  own  people,  Katherine's 
heart  must  rove  from  home — must  know  to  the  utmost  all  that  life 
holds  of  both  joy  and  sorrow.  And  so  she  goes  beyond  the  seas,  leav- 
ing her  parents  as  desolate  as  were  Isaac  and  Rebecca  of  old. 

THE    MAID    OF    MAIDEN    LANE;       A  Love  Story.      With 

Illustrations  by  S.  M.  Arthur. 

A  sequel  to  "The  Bow  of  Orange  Ribbon."  The  time  is  the 
gracious  days  of  Seventeen-hundred  and  ninety-one,  when  "The 
Marseillaise  was  sung  with  the  American  national  airs,  and  the 
spirit  affected  commerce,  politics  and  conversation.  In  the  midst  of 
this  period  the  romance  of  "The  Sweetest  Maid  in  Maiden  Lane"  un- 
folds. Its  chief  charm  lies  in  its  historic  and  local  color. 

SHEILA  VEDDER.     Frontispiece  in  colors  by  Harrison  Fisher. 

A  love  story  set  in  the  Shetland  Islands. 

Among  the  simple,  homely  folk  who  dwelt  there  Jan  Vedder  was 
raised;  and  to  this  island  came  lovely  Sheila  J  arrow.  Jan  knew,  when 
first  he  beheld  her,  that  she  was  the  one  woman  in  all  the  world  for 
him,  and  to  the  winning  of  her  love  he  set  himself.  The  lone  days  of 
summer  by  the  sea,  the  nights  under  the  marvelously  soft  radiance  of 
Shetland  moonlight  passed  in  love-making,  while  with  wonderment 
the  man  and  woman,  alien  in  traditions,  adjusted  themselves  to  each 
other.  And  the  day  came  when  Jan  and  Sheila  wed,  and  then  a 
sweeter  love  story  is  told. 

TRINITY  BELLS.      With  eight  Illustrations  by  C.  M.  Relyea. 

The  story  centers  around  the  life  of  little  Katryntje  Van  Clyffe, 
who,  on  her  return  home  from  a  fashionable  boarding  school,  faces 
poverty  and  heartache.  Stout  of  heart,  she  does  not  permit  herself 
to  become  discouraged  even  at  the  news  of  the  loss  of  her  father  and 
his  ship  "The  Golden  Victory."  The  story  of  Katryntje's  life  was 
interwoven  with  the  music  of  the  Trinity  Bells  which  eventually 
heralded  her  wedding  day. 

Ask  for  complete  free  list  of  G.  &  D.  Popular  Copyrighted.  Fiction 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST.,  NEW  YORK 


TITLES   SELECTED   FROM 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAFS  LIST 

RE-ISSUES  OF  THE  GREAT  LITERARY  SUCCESSES  OF  THE  TIME 
May  be  had  whsrsvsr  books  are  sold.        Ask  for  Grosset  &  Dunlap's  list 

BEN    HUR.    A  Tale  of  the  Christ.    By  General  Lew  Wallace 

This  famous  Religious-Historical  Romance  with  its  mighty  story, 
brilliant  pageantry,  thrilling  action  and  deep  religious  reverence, 
hardly  requires  an  outline.  The  whole  world  has  placed  "Ben-Hur" 
on  a  height  of  pre-eminence  which  no  other  novel  of  its  time  has 
reached.  The  clashing  of  rivalry  and  the  deepest  human  passions, 
the  perfect  reproduction  of  brilliant  Roman  life,  and  the  tense,  fierce 
atmosphere  of  the  arena  have  kept  their  deep  fascination. 

THE    PRINCE  OE  INDIA.    By  General  Lew  Wallace 

A  glowing  romance  of  the  Byzantine  Empire,  showing,  with  vivid 
imagination,  the  possible  forces  behind  the  internal  decay  of  the  Em- 
pire that  hastened  the  fall  of  Constantinople. 

The  foreground  figure  is  the  person  known  to  all  as  the  Wan- 
dering Jew,  at  this  time  appearing  as  the  Prince  of  India,  with  vast 
stores  of  wealth,  and  is  supposed  to  have  instigated  many  wars  and 
fomented  the  Crusades. 

Mohammed's  love  for  the  Princess  Irene  is  beautifully  wrought 
into  the  story,  and  the  book  as  a  whole  is  a  marvelous  work  both 
historically  and  romantically. 

THE  FAIR  GOD.  By  General  Lew  Wallace.  A  Tale  of  the 
Conquest  of  Mexico.  With  Eight  Illustrations  by  Eric  Pape. 

All  the  annals  of  conquest  have  nothing  more  brilliantly  daring 
and  dramatic  than  the  drama  played  in  Mexico  by  Cortes.  As  a 
dazzling  picture  of  Mexico  and  the  Montezumas  it  leaves  nothing  to 
be  desired. 

The  artist  has  caught  with  rare  enthusiasm  the  spirit  of  the 
Spanish  conquerors  of  Mexico,  its  beauty  and  glory  and  romance. 

TARRY  THOU  TILL  I  COME  or,  Salathiel,  the  Wandering 
Jew.  By  George  Croly.  With  twenty  illustrations  by  T.  de  Thulstrup 

\  A  historical  novel,  dealing  with  the  momentous  events  that  oc- 
curred, chiefly  in  Palestine,  from  the  time  of  the  Crucifixion  to  the 
destruction  of  Jerusalem. 

The  book,  as  a  story,  is  replete  with  Oriental  charm  and  richness, 
and  the  character  drawing  is  marvelous.  No  other  novel  ever  written 
has  portrayed  with  such  vividness  the  events  that  convulsed  Rome 
and  destroyed  Jerusalem  in  the  early  days  of  Christanity. 

Ask  for  complete  frte  list  of  G.  &  D>  Popular  Co^yrigTied  Fiction 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  526  WEST  26th  ST..  NEW  YORK 


A     000110830     7 


